Chapter 1 — Return to the Past (7)
December 18, 1920 – 20:00
It was our second day in 1920 when we finally found a place to stay.
I hadn't expected Mr. Ken to give us a little wooden cabin. I thought it would just be sothing like a guesthouse.
What surprised even more was that this place was right next to the Morory Manor—not far from their fence—with a small path leading straight to the manor gate.
The cabin had only one floor, and from the outside it looked rather ordinary. Still, though small, it had everything we needed. The only awkward thing was that it ca with just a single bed.
According to Mr. Ken, the cabin had been built long ago with leftover materials and had not been used in years.
But when we moved in, it was already cleaned.
That caught off guard. I had prepared myself to sweep and scrub, even to accept the possibility of no furniture at all, yet he had gone out of his way to make things ready.
No—wealthy families care about appearances. They wouldn't do anything that might tarnish their dignity.
Thinking of that, I finally understood his actions.
"Will?"
I turned toward her. She bit her lip lightly, frowning.
"Don't you realize... we don't have any luggage?"
... Right.
We had crossed over in such a rush that we brought absolutely nothing with us.
"You're right. What should we do?"
"And we don't have any money either."
"... We can't possibly ask Mr. Ken for help."
"But Will, both our lunch and dinner today were at his place."
"During the earlier conversation, we completely forgot that we had arrived here with nothing."
"... Sorry."
"I didn't think of it either. I'm sorry too."
What now?
"Haha, well, it's already much better."
Better? Better how?
Lijedahl seed relieved. She shrugged and said.
"Back when my sisters and I were being hunted, we had to sleep rough every day, sotis going two or three days without food, and even stealing when we had no choice."
Her black eyes looked at , filled with helplessness.
"Tomorrow we'll ask around. Losing a bit of face isn't the end of the world."
"... There's no other way."
So I shut the doors and windows and lit a fire in the hearth.
Lijedahl sat beside . The weather was cold, and we ward ourselves together in front of the flas.
I noticed her rubbing her hands, breathing out warm air.
"Didn't you say you don't really feel the cold?"
"Mm, that's true."
"Then why do you look a little chilly?"
"..."
She gazed at the fire, her eyes soft and tender.
"Because once you've experienced warmth, you can never look at the cold the sa way again."
"... I see."
I tossed another log into the fireplace. Lijedahl leaned closer to , making a little uneasy.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door sounded. The knocks were steady, not urgent.
"Who is it?"
I called out, then stepped closer to the door and peered through the peephole.
A blond man.
Ah, Mr. Ken.
I opened the door. He held a walking stick in one hand and an umbrella in the other. No one accompanied him, aning he had co especially to see us.
When he saw , he smiled warmly and said.
"Mr. Will, I hope you don't mind dropping by?"
"Ah, not at all. Were you looking for Miss Lijedahl?"
I glanced at her—she also leaned forward, thinking Mr. Ken had co for her.
"Ah, no, I'm here to see you, Mr. Will."
?
I looked at him in confusion, but his kind smile never wavered.
"What do you want from ?"
"I want to ask you so questions. They have nothing to do with Miss Lijedahl—just you. Co, let's talk outside."
I glanced back at Lijedahl. She, too, looked puzzled.
"Uh... alright then. Will, you should go. Just don't stay out too long—it's snowing."
Mr. Ken smiled kindly.
"Haha, of course."
I was a little confused, but I still put on my hat and followed him out.
Not far from the cabin, he stopped and set down his umbrella.
Both of us were wearing hats, so the snow wasn't much of a problem.
"Mr. Will, this spot will do."
"Alright... so, sir, what is it you want to ask ?"
"Sothing I've noticed. Will—you said you don't know magic, didn't you?"
"... Yes. You're asking why I have that strange, magical power in , aren't you?"
I didn't fully understand the situation with the magic inside my body, but I could more or less guess what he ant.
"Clever, Mr. Will. But do you realize? Your magic isn't just strange."
"Oh? What do you an by that?"
"As a mage, I can see through simple tricks. You are a vessel of magic."
A... vessel of magic.
"You are the container she stored her power in. Answer —yes or no?"
His words startled , but I quickly regained my composure and thought it through.
She had said this magic was sothing she had left behind, her way of saving herself. The power would seek out a host, but very few could inherit it...
In that light, his words weren't unreasonable.
"Yes. I may very well be her vessel of magic."
I answered quickly—so quickly he probably hadn't expected such honesty. For a split second, I caught the surprise in his expression, but he imdiately returned to his usual self.
"So calm about it?"
"Yes. I think so too."
"Don't you feel you're being used?"
I smiled.
"She gains no real advantage from using , and besides, she isn't that kind of person."
"Oh? And what makes you so sure?"
"Didn't you notice? She unconsciously reminded us not to stay out too long, just now. If that doesn't tell you what kind of person she is, what would?"
Mr. Ken paused to think, then the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
"You two really are a strange pair."
"Indeed."
"Mr. Will, let ask you one last question."
"Please, go ahead."
He gripped his cane with both hands and tapped it against the ground.
Snow was already covering us, sending chills through the air.
"You've had professional training, haven't you? Like..."
He didn't need to finish—I already knew what he ant.
"I'm a translator, educated at a high level. My skills are diverse, and I've also studied so self-defense—enough to protect myself to a certain extent."
He looked at . His face was still friendly, but his eyes told plainly that he didn't believe .
"You're not like one. Do you know why I don't believe you are?"
"Tell ."
"Your eyes. And your composure. Those aren't things you can learn from books."
"... Is that so? What's wrong with my eyes?"
"They're too calm. Calm to the point of excess—like soone who's survived countless brushes with death. And during today's conversation with Miss Lijedahl, when you paused to think, your gaze turned uncharacteristically sharp, even fierce. That's not sothing ordinary people have."
His eyes were sharp, seeing straight through the smallest details. But in the end, it was still just speculation.
"You can think of it that way if you like—that I'm exactly the kind of person you imagine. I may be hiding things, but I won't say more. Whatever my identity is, whatever I've done, whatever I've been through... none of that matters. Against magic, I'm just an ordinary man."
With that, I stepped back a pace.
"Mr. Ken, it's getting late. Why don't we head inside? We're both covered in snow."
He locked eyes with , and I stared back.
"... Haha. Hahaha."
He suddenly laughed, as if realizing sothing.
"So you excuse yourself with that? You're not to be underestimated, Mr. Will."
"Shall I take that as a complint?"
I smiled, turning my back to him.
"Oh, by the way, Mr. Ken—there's sothing you should know."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"Miss Lijedahl is a noble mage. To her, money is just a worldly trifle."
I pressed down the brim of my hat, half turning my head to glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
"But I'm different. I'm a worldly man. If you want to do sothing, you'll have to pay ."
Mr. Ken froze for a mont, then burst into laughter again.
"Hahaha! Interesting. You are truly an interesting man."
He removed his hat, brushed the snow from it, and said,
"It's been a long ti since I t soone bold enough to speak to like this."
Then he opened his umbrella.
"I'll agree to your request, Will. I'll provide the money you need."
He started walking down the small path in the opposite direction from .
"And I promise—the amount will not be small."
With that, he strode off.
I turned back toward the cabin, replaying the conversation in my head.
"I wasn't careful enough. He's figured out part of who I am."
I muttered to myself.
Only when the snowfall gave way and the cabin door appeared before did I snap out of my thoughts.
Knock, knock, knock.
I rapped on the door.
It opened imdiately.
"Will, you're finally back! Look at you, covered in snow."
She looked a little anxious, her hands unconsciously on her hips, the faint brown in her eyes plainly scolding .
"Ah... haha, yes, I was a bit late."
"Well... and Mr. Ken?"
"Ah, he's gone back."
"Uh, so... what did you two talk about?"
I hung my coat and hat on the rack by the door, then looked at Lijedahl.
"Nothing much. Just so probing questions. But—you don't need to worry about losing face anymore."
"Ah? What do you an?"
"I've taken care of the money problem."
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