Home/The Seven-Year-Old Village Chief of Exile/ch 38

Chapter 38

"But fortunately!"

As if trying to shake off the gloom, Libby clapped her hands together and laughed brightly.

"Since we all have mysterious aptitudes, if we awaken them quickly, we'll be a great help to Hebenia."

In that regard, Libby envied Ian.

"You're already pulling your weight, right?"

"I still have a long way to go."

Ian smiled wryly.

"Libby, you're right. In the end, Hebenia is our village's greatest asset. She knows it too, which is why she doesn't hesitate to step forward."

"...Which is why I'd rather Hebenia be twenty-five."

If she were seven, it would be too heartbreaking.

If she were twenty-five, it would be less so.

Ian, who had been nodding along in agreement, turned his head.

"I..."

His gaze landed on the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Hebenia was washing up in there. Her cheerful humming drifted all the way to the kitchen.

The corner of Ian's mouth lifted.

"I believe she's seven."

"Well, for now, I do too."

"So I have similar worries to yours."

"You too?"

"My angle is a bit different, though."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Ian said.

"It makes my stomach turn to think that because of our indecisiveness, a child has to make terrible decisions without hesitation."

"You've been so worried about Hebenia's emotional education, haven't you?"

"Even if she's lost her memories, she's a Clavis—she must have her innate tendencies."

Even the demon Verity had to concede to the Clavis.

But even so, Hebenia's ideas and consciousness often crossed a line.

'Just yesterday, she brought up torture in the dungeon.'

The problem was that all her choices were made for the villagers.

Because the adults couldn't do it, the seven-year-old Hebenia was making all the decisions and bearing all the responsibility.

"I should be the one to step forward first..."

Before Hebenia made a bad choice, Ian should be the one to voice those opinions and steel himself to carry them out.

But the beliefs he'd held for so long kept making him hesitate.

"...No."

To the self-reproaching Ian, Libby said firmly.

"Precisely because of that, oppa, you need to be Hebenia's conscience."

"Me?"

"Don't you know why Hebenia is so good to us?"

"......"

"Because we were good to her first."

"What?"

Ian's eyes widened as if he'd never heard that before.

Libby, as if she'd expected that reaction, relaxed her shoulders and let out a light breath.

Then she began helping Ian with the shrimp he'd paused. Ian finally started moving his hands again.

"When we were camping in the primeval forest, the training was so hard that I and the other adults were on the verge of fainting. We couldn't even move a finger."

In fact, she could barely remember what had happened then.

"So Hebenia prepared almost all the meals herself?"

"Hey, that's..."

"We felt bad about it too. Of course, we apologized to Hebenia. We're not heartless!"

"So, what happened next?"

"Anyway, when we apologized, Hebenia..."

Recalling that moment, Libby smiled as if she were about to cry.

"She brought up the exile camp."

The small child, who had brought each adult a bowl of stew packed with meat, smiled and said this about her hard work.

"But you all did the same for me."

"Us? When?"

"In the exile camp!"

"......"

"You always gave me the big pieces of meat, did my share of the work when I was tired, and called me over to show me pretty flowers."

So she was just doing the same in return.

"Does that make sense?"

"......"

"Hebenia is seven years old. What did she do to end up in exile? She's the real victim of a false accusation."

So they just helped her.

They just looked after a pitiful seven-year-old.

And now Hebenia was desperately trying to do even more, not sparing herself, as if that were some great deed.

"...So we have to be Hebenia's conscience and morality."

She's learning from us.

At Libby's words, Ian felt a chill run through his entire body.

"So you..."

Libby, who had been soaking the now-peeled shrimp in cold water, looked up.

Ian was looking at his other little sister with moist eyes.

"You're capable of such admirable thoughts..."

"Hah!"

Under the table, Libby swung her leg. Ian could have dodged, but he let her hit him on purpose.

"Ow, that hurts!"

"Anyway, that's how it is, so don't overthink it. Because of us, Hebenia will live a good life."

"Well, maybe she's just naturally kind."

"That's why she's racking her brain to help people she doesn't even know."

Libby answered cheerfully, saying she wouldn't have cared if she were in Hebenia's shoes.

Ian chuckled—he felt the same.

'I probably would have just ignored it since it didn't directly affect me.'

Moreover, as an imperial knight, he wouldn't have been able to defy the Emperor. He might even have been one of the knights who raided the herbalist.

But Hebenia was willingly helping others.

'I was worrying for nothing.'

Hebenia would never cross the line.

---

The next day.

"I've prepared some torture devices."

"......"

"Oppa, why that face? You look like you've been betrayed."

"Bear with me."

Libby grabbed my shoulder and said.

"Yesterday, this oppa was praising you like crazy for being so kind."

"He should say that to my face."

"From now on, I'll only nag..."

Letting out a deep sigh, Ian eyed the tools I'd prepared with displeasure.

Then he kept rubbing the back of his neck like a man with high blood pressure.

"So, what are these?"

"Ian oppa, let me say again—I'm opposed to torture."

I really am.

Since I attended my history classes diligently, I knew better than anyone how cruel and serious torture is.

But sometimes, a good spanking is the best medicine.

If so, before using the spanking, shouldn't I experience how painful it is to better utilize it?

"Sigh..."

Verity let out a world-weary sigh and looked at me like I was a clueless child.

"I've lived a long time, but this is the first time I've heard someone say they want to experience torture before using it."

"Hehe, really?"

"Is it self-masochism? Or self-sadism? Even saying it out loud, the combination of words is so bizarre it's frightening."

The demon butler shuddered and made the sign of the cross.

"Hmph," I snorted.

"There's a reason for this."

Everyone can imagine how painful it is to be burned with a hot iron or whipped.

Because everyone has burned themselves on something hot at least once, and everyone has fallen and scraped their skin.

"But I don't know why the leg-twisting torture hurts."

"We've got a 'try it before you know it' type here..."

"So it's just curiosity?"

Libby tilted her head at the wooden chair used for leg-twisting.

"What exactly is leg-twisting?"

"Unnie! I'll show you!"

"So you just want to satisfy your curiosity under the guise of this. My Lady, you must have been a difficult child to raise. I find myself feeling pity for the Clavis for the first time..."

"Stop talking and tie me up."

With a pounding heart, I sat in the chair.

'It feels like I'm at a folk village.'

Instead of tying my legs with rope, Verity instructed Ian to hold me firmly.

"Huh? Just tie me."

"How can I really torture a seven-year-old?"

"I'm twenty-five!"

"Your appearance is seven, so no."

Verity brought two training clubs and placed them between my shins.

"Huh?"

Not my thighs?

'In historical dramas, they put them between the thighs...'

I blinked and watched what Verity was doing.

"My Lady, in actual leg-twisting, they twist the shins."

"Why?"

"Because it hurts."

At the same time, Verity crossed the clubs like scissors and twisted.

Very gently.

"Guh!"

And I let out a short, sharp gasp from the pain of my bones twisting.

As I groaned, unable to speak from the tears welling in my eyes, I heard a click.

Ian, pulling out a stick, asked, "What are you doing?" in a voice that seemed distant.

"I'm taking a picture because it's funny."

"Stop that and comfort her. The kid's crying..."

"The Lady's crying? Let's take another picture."

"It hurts..."

"That's why it's called torture."

"...Excuse me, I've had my fill of laughs, so can I go study now?"

Having lost interest, Libby went home.

Freed from the chair, I collapsed onto the floor in a kneeling, respectful posture.

"She must have really hurt."

Ian's hand stroking my back was very gentle.

'Torture is dangerous. It hurts too much...'

I felt a newfound gratitude for Article 12, Paragraph 1 of the Korean Constitution, which guarantees the right not to be tortured, and I deeply agreed with the Geneva Convention's strict prohibition of torture and inhuman treatment in times of war.

"Had enough fun?"

Verity asked after putting away the torture chair.

"Pretty much...?"

"Is there anything else you want to try?"

"Did I feed you too much breakfast? You're only getting three shrimp from now on."

Barely standing up, I glanced at my shins.

I was wearing long pants today, so I couldn't see them, but judging by the pain, they'd definitely bruise.

"Ian oppa."

Before speaking, I secured a promise first.

"Promise me you won't get mad."

"Laying the groundwork like that for more nonsense."

"Puhaha! My Lady's credibility is like an ant's legs."

"Ah, come on!"

"Just tell me first."

I didn't get a promise that he wouldn't get angry, but from Ian's expression, I could sense a willingness to hear me out.

So I said it.

"Let's raise monsters."

"Lord Verity, let's twist Hebenia's legs again."

"Ah, oppa! Oppaaa!"

I quickly grabbed Ian's pant leg and lay on the floor.

"You said to tell you first! And I'm not done explaining!"

"It seems a spanking might be more of a nutrient supplement than medicine for you."

"Oh dear, you've lost so much credibility..."

Verity clicked his tongue and hid the clubs used for the leg-twisting in his subspace pocket.

While hugging Ian's leg tightly, I said.

"It's for securing power and expanding the village's income sources!"

Only then did Ian's gaze, which had been glaring at me like I was a troublemaker, soften.

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