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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“You’re staying at Linchester again?”
Sepia raised an eyebrow.
It was her tell, the way she reacted whenever she was displeased or annoyed.
She didn’t seem to realize how obvious her expressions were.
Her sharp, cat-like eyes were fixed on me. I didn’t know how to respond.
“Yeah. I have to train during the break and get stronger.”
“Training again…? What’s the hurry?”
“Huh?”
I was surprised by her question. Sepia sighed, her fork clattering against her plate.
What’s the hurry?
The original story had been derailed, but we were approaching the second act.
Of course I had to be prepared.
“Ethan… you always seem to be in a rush…”
“…”
I had been pushing myself to become stronger for the past year. I had been running a race against time.
Training every day, learning magic, keeping up with my classes.
I hadn’t done it to save the world. I had done it for myself.
I was doing what I could, what only I could do in this twisted world.
So, it was all for my own sake.
The uncertain future, the unanswered questions about my transmigration, about my very existence…
Whenever I was faced with these unsolvable problems, I had sought distractions.
I had been running away from my own feelings.
Even when the training was painful, even when I was on the brink of death, all I could do was grit my teeth and endure.
“You could… slow down a little…”
Sepia bit her lip. It was a habit of hers when she was hesitant.
“Sepia…”
My body had grown stronger, but my mind had been worn down over the past year.
It was like not realizing you were sick until you collapsed.
I hadn’t been able to confide in anyone.
I finally understood why the reincarnated protagonists in those novels were always so emotionally scarred.
Could I confide in someone here? No, I couldn’t.
“Thank you for your concern… But I’ll take care of myself.”
“…”
Sepia put down her fork. Her steak was only half-eaten.
“You… you’ve changed so much in the past year, you know that?”
She meant I wasn’t acting like the Ethan she knew.
I didn’t know anything about the original Ethan. So, I decided to ask.
“What was I like?”
“What were you like…? Well…”
Sepia paused, as if trying to recall a distant memory.
“Quiet, but loyal… and kind, and considerate.”
Quiet, but loyal?
That sounded nothing like me. I had only one possible response.
“I see.”
Silence fell again.
We finished our meal in silence. Sepia stood up. She seemed to have a lot on her mind.
We left the restaurant and stood on the street. The air was cold.
“I’ll let you know when I hear from Master Yuffie… Enjoy your break.”
Sepia walked away. I stood there, staring up at the gray sky.
It was one of those days when I had too much to think about.
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Sepia returned to her home in the Logness territory.
Her room was exactly as she had left it. The maids knew she disliked anyone touching her things.
Her desk, her furniture, her vanity… everything was simple and unadorned, not at all like a noblewoman’s room.
But Sepia, who disliked extravagance, liked it that way. The door closed with a click.
Sepia leaned against the door and sighed.
‘Ethan… what happened to you?’
It was strange.
He had changed so much in the past year. Was it because he was getting older?
Had he become more mature?
Sepia placed the Lemegeton on her desk.
The grimoire had promised to answer three questions truthfully.
She only had three chances. Perhaps she should use one of them now.
She picked up her quill and wrote in the grimoire.
―Hello. It’s been a while.
―It has, my owner, Sepia. What is it?
―You said you would answer three questions truthfully, right?
―That is correct.
Her hand hovered over the page. She couldn’t waste her three chances on a trivial question.
―I want to know how you answer my questions. This doesn’t count as a question, right?
―Do you not trust your own artifact, owner?
Sepia chuckled.
She had read in fairy tales that you had to be careful when dealing with supernatural beings.
―No, I don’t.
―I am the grimoire that holds all the secrets of the world. Ask me anything.
Her light provocation had elicited a strong response. It had a lot of pride.
―And if I ask something random, you’ll just say I’ve used up one of my questions, won’t you?
The Lemegeton didn’t respond immediately.
―Fine. I will show you my power. Ask me anything.
―Okay. You can’t read minds, can you? If I ask you to list the people Ethan likes in order, what would you say?
It was a test. She had nothing to lose. And she wouldn’t refuse a demonstration of its power.
Words slowly appeared on the page. Sepia was surprised by the answer.
―Ethan does not like anyone.
Countless questions filled her mind. She suspected the grimoire was wrong.
‘Ethan doesn’t like anyone?’
Was it even possible? Could someone exist without liking anyone?
―That’s a lie. Ethan likes me.
―Ethan does not like anyone. He has closed his heart. That is the truth.
Sepia gripped her quill tightly and wrote,
―Then tell me who I like.
―Are you testing me?
―Yes, I am.
―Sepia von Logness loves Ethan. Is that a sufficient answer, my skeptical owner?
Sepia froze. It was the truth.
―Ethan really doesn’t like anyone? Is that even possible? How can someone not like anyone?
She wrote down her questions, her thoughts a jumbled mess.
She suddenly remembered a time in her childhood when she had also closed her heart. She had locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone.
And she had opened the door on her own. Or so she believed.
―Are you asking a book about human emotions? It is as I said. Ethan does not like anyone.
―Stop spouting nonsense. I’ll tear you to pieces and throw you into the sea.
The grimoire didn’t reply immediately, as though her threat had worked. Then, a new sentence appeared.
―Was I being unhelpful? Ethan does not wish to form deep relationships with anyone. That is why his heart is closed.
―Why? Why is his heart closed?
Sepia bit her lip.
―That is all I can tell you. If you wish to know more, you must use one of your questions.
It couldn’t give her all the answers for free.
‘He closed his heart? Is it because of his amnesia? What did he forget?’
Her mind was in turmoil.
She decided to use her first question.
―Alright, here’s my first question. Tell me what memories Ethan has lost.
The words disappeared, and an answer appeared.
―Ethan has not lost any memories. The one who has lost their memories is you, Sepia von Logness.
It was another confusing answer. She had asked about Ethan’s lost memories, and it had claimed that she was the one with amnesia.
“Are you trying to make me angry?! I’ll really throw you into the sea!”
Sepia shouted. But the Lemegeton was a book. It couldn’t hear her.
*Knock, knock.
A knock at the door. Sepia slammed the Lemegeton shut.
“My lady, it’s Vivian.”
“Come in, Vivian.”
Vivian entered and looked at Sepia.
She looked troubled, a mixture of disappointment, anger, and confusion on her face.
“The Family Head wishes to see you.”
“My father?”
“He wishes to see you in his official capacity.”
It wasn’t a personal visit. It was about family matters.
“Okay. When?”
“He wishes to see you now.”
“Okay… I’ll get ready.”
She was already feeling overwhelmed, and now her father wanted to see her. She went to the cozy reception room.
“Sit, Sepia von Logness.”
“Sepia von Logness, at your service, Lord of Logness.”
Sepia curtsied, feeling a surge of nervousness as she met her father’s stern gaze.
“Come, sit down, Sepia.”
She sat down across from her father, Harlion, fidgeting nervously.
“How was the academy? I heard you received an award for magic.”
“Yes. I was lucky.”
“Luck is also a skill. And creating your own luck is also a skill.”
Sepia nodded.
“You’re right.”
“As you know, the Logness family has a natural talent for magic. In that sense, creating your own luck is a skill.”
Sepia looked at her father, a bad feeling creeping up on her. But he continued, oblivious to her apprehension.
“And you know how the Logness family has maintained our magical lineage.”
Sepia’s words caught in her throat.
“…”
“I have found a suitable match for you. I want you to meet him.”
Her premonition had been correct.
It was about the arranged marriage that had been weighing on her mind.
“Father! I… I’m still too young to get married.”
“You’ll be twenty-one next month. Do you think arranged marriages are always unhappy?”
Not all arranged marriages were unhappy. Her mother, also a mage, had come to the Logness territory through an arranged marriage.
And she had found happiness with Harlion.
“But… I…”
“You can’t be a child forever. Just meet him.”
Her hands, clenched in her lap, trembled.
She had no valid reason to refuse. She reluctantly nodded.
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