Home/I Became the Emergency Food Supply of the Bear Family/ch50

Chapter 50

Alexei quickly caught Ber as she fell. Cradling her, he urgently checked her condition.

"Y-young lady, are you all right?"

Even at Alexei's urgent voice, Ber didn't raise her head. Breathing heavily, she clutched Alexei's collar and heaved—vomiting something.

A warm liquid trickled down Alexei's clothes and fell onto his palm.

Blood.

"Ah... young lady. Young lady!"

Alexei frantically shook Ber's shoulders. But still, Ber couldn't lift her head or open her eyes. Her knees gave way, and she collapsed. Alexei barely held her up.

"I'll get the nurse."

Adrian's voice and hurried footsteps. The sound of a door opening, and Alexei's tearful voice calling for her.

Her vision fading to black, those sounds slowly grew distant.

Why am I... suddenly like this...

With that last brief question, Ber's consciousness faded.

---

The black wolf.

Black wolves had black fur—proof of their strength. Wolves born with black fur generally possessed strong hearts and lungs.

But mutations always existed.

A few years after his birth, his mother fell ill.

An incurable lung disease of unknown origin.

His mother, already frail, took to her bed—and soon after, the same illness was found in him.

His mother blamed herself. Her child had inherited her illness. She neglected her own treatment, prioritizing her son's.

Of course, neither his mother's illness nor his own ever improved.

Driven by guilt and her son's deteriorating health, his mother's lung condition worsened further. She passed away just three years after her illness was discovered.

It was painful.

Even in heaven, was his mother still tormented by guilt? Was she still suffering, watching her son struggle with the same disease?

That was why he wanted to escape this wretched illness.

Doctors said to be skilled. Herbs said to be effective. Foods said to strengthen the heart and lungs. He tried everything—but his health never improved.

His growth was stunted far below the average wolf. His body was so small it was hardly wolf-like. He couldn't bear to look at his own gaunt frame.

After his mother's death, his father brought a woman into the manor. Though she had maliciously abandoned him alone in the harsh northern climate, he had seen it as an opportunity.

The power of spring, said to belong to the goddess Eostre. If he could obtain it, this lung disease could be cured.

His first attempt ended in failure, but afterward, he visited the Arctic several more times with his personal attendant, Jean, to search for Eostre's incarnation.

But only a few times. His father's new wife, Marinella, had obstructed him—he'd managed fewer than five visits to the Arctic.

Of course, it had all been in vain.

Just once—he'd encountered a young Arctic hare.

It seemed to have come out with its parents to eat hay. While the mother stood watch, the young hare perked its ears and ate.

It would be simple: bite the parents' necks to immobilize them, then swallow the child. Easy. Rabbits were prey for every predator.

But in the end, he'd only swallowed dryly and returned.

He couldn't bring himself to eat it.

He didn't have the courage to take that power by devouring a child so much smaller and younger than himself. For some reason, he kept seeing himself and his mother.

Time passed.

With the help of Jean and other servants, he saw countless doctors. But as expected, no treatment helped his lung condition.

The time he'd lost consciousness in the middle of the North—nothing had ever comforted him as much as that strange warmth he'd felt. On the day he'd returned to the manor in the carriage with Jean, his breathing had been surprisingly easy.

But that was all. His lung disease didn't heal.

The illness showed no improvement. Even his father, who hadn't stripped him of his viscount status out of guilt toward his deceased mother, now seemed ready to make a decision.

Raoul—a wolf beast-person born between his father and Marinella, with a dark brown coat entirely unlike a black wolf. His father was trying to install Raoul, who had mixed blood, as the viscount's heir.

Unlike himself, Raoul was perfectly healthy—clearly a strong wolf.

But he didn't want to give up.

This year, at sixteen, he and Raoul would enter the Imperial Academy together.

He would achieve better grades than Raoul and change his father's mind. For that, he would stop at nothing. There might be excellent doctors or mages in the capital—he'd bribe or threaten them to cure his lung disease.

With that resolve, he attended the entrance ceremony.

After the ceremony, on the way to dormitory assignments—

A servant of the Noirel family greeted him, as if to say take care. He didn't answer. He didn't even glance that way—he knew whose side the servant accompanying him today was on.

It was Marinella's scheming. She had been steadily expanding her influence in the viscount's household, and now only Jean remained on his side. Today, she had likely arranged for Jean to be saddled with other work, preventing him from attending.

His father never cared about such things.

Raoul, walking ahead, briefly raised his hand in acknowledgment to the servant. As he glared at the back of Raoul's head, Raoul slowly sidled up beside him.

"I have something to tell you."

Another pointless provocation. He kept walking without even glancing at him—and Raoul let out a mocking laugh.

"You'd better listen to me today. Someone wants to meet you. They're in the Academy gardens right now."

"...What are you talking about?"

"Jean. He was actually dismissed this morning."

At those words, he stopped dead. Raoul also stopped, grabbed his arm, pulled him aside, and hid behind a pillar.

Thud. Raoul pushed him against the wall with strong force. Enduring the pain, he glared at Raoul.

"What... do you mean?"

"He begged me to let him see you one last time. I wasn't going to bother, but I felt sorry for him."

You.

Raoul whispered as if adding another blow.

His lips twisted involuntarily. Raoul released his shoulder and smirked.

"Go see him yourself. I'll take you there."

Walking in the opposite direction, Raoul glanced back.

"It'll be amusing."

They soon arrived at the garden. Following Raoul's gesture, he approached the ginkgo tree—but Jean was nowhere to be seen.

"You're more naive than I thought, even for a viscount."

"......"

"Did you really think he'd come to see you after being dismissed because of you?"

It was a lie.

But strangely, relief outweighed the displeasure of being deceived. Perhaps that other remark was also a lie.

"Jean's dismissal was a lie too, then."

"Unfortunately, that was true. Here's the proof."

Raoul pulled something from his pocket and tossed it at his feet. When he unfolded the crumpled paper, it was a letter.

Jean's final farewell.

The letter wasn't about Jean himself—it was filled with nothing but worry for him.

"The one I swore loyalty to is Lady Leah Noirel."

"I have no intention of abandoning you, so don't worry needlessly. It's insulting."

The hand clutching the letter trembled.

Jean had been abandoned in his homeland and taken in by his mother. He had nowhere else to go.

Had his father completely forgotten his mother?

"That fellow said he was loyal to the late lady, not the lord? We can't keep such a disloyal servant in the viscount's house. He had to be dismissed."

"......Father would never have allowed it."

"You know who's running the Noirel household now. It's Marinella Noirel, not Leah Noirel. You don't think the lady of the house has that authority?"

Yes. His father never cared about such things. He'd known that.

Crinkle. The letter crumpled again in his hand.

"There's no one left on your side in the viscount's house. You're really in trouble now. If you don't cure that illness soon, you'll lose your title. Why don't you just surrender it voluntarily?"

"......"

"Rather than having it forcibly taken by Father."

Father.

That word from his mouth grated unbearably.

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