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Episode 77

"Hm. I did."

"Were there child soldiers there as well?"

"Child soldiers?"

For a moment, the Marchioness's gaze flicked to Kendrick, then back to Janet.

Kendrick, too, could be considered a child soldier in a sense. He had been fifteen at the time.

A child whose voice hadn't even broken, forced to wield a sword and kill countless enemies to survive.

"There were. Quite a few children drifted in from various places."

"Orphans……?"

"Mostly. Orphanages were overflowing, and some children with nowhere to go enlisted on their own."

"And those who were forced?"

"There were those too. Some unscrupulous people at the time sold orphans to the military for money."

Liam frowned as he spoke.

Even though it was what he'd witnessed and said, it felt unbearably cruel.

Every time he saw children wandering the battlefield, his heart ached.

Wondering if Xenia might be suffering somewhere like that too.

"Our unit had a few children too—we had them guard the barracks or assist with meal preparation. But……"

Tsk.

"Among children assigned to other units, quite a few were trained and sent into combat. It's truly an inhumane thing to do."

Even adults struggled to survive in wartime—what chance did children have?

Even among those assigned to relatively safe zones, there were casualties. How many more must have died in bloody combat?

"……But why are you suddenly curious about all this?"

Theo, too, wasn't interrupting but had the same question. Why the sudden interest?

Janet hesitated for a moment.

Though she'd made up her mind, taking the first step was always nerve-wracking.

Hoo.

Letting out a light breath, Janet carefully began.

"It seems I might have been one of those child soldiers."

"……!"

"!"

Both men reacted identically. They stared in shock, unable to speak.

And with good reason.

A person with no memories before age fifteen suddenly claiming to have been a child soldier in the same war they'd fought in.

What a story—it sounded like something out of a novel.

But—

"I sometimes dream about the past. Dreams of struggling to survive on the battlefield."

"……Is that true?"

"Yes. At first, I thought they were just nightmares, but they've been getting more vivid. I'm starting to think they're fragments of my memories from before age fifteen."

"Good heavens. Janet—so you were on the same battlefield as us."

At the Marchioness's shocked muttering, Janet felt a warmth in her heart.

It was clear that he genuinely cared about her.

"Once I became certain they were my memories, I got curious."

"About your memories before fifteen?"

"Yes. I became curious. About who I was, whether I might have…… a family looking for me."

In truth, this was the biggest reason she'd decided to recover her memories.

Watching the Marchioness and Richard desperately search for their lost family had stirred something in her.

'What if my family is looking for me too?'

When she'd lived in the Graham household, she'd never thought about her real family.

Having cleanly lost her memories, she'd never felt the importance or necessity of family.

Of course, even now, she didn't feel any particular affection for her biological parents.

'Besides, it's unlikely they're looking for me.'

According to her dreams, she was already an orphan by the time she was conscripted as a child soldier.

Having stayed in an orphanage from a young age, she'd likely been abandoned.

But—

'There's always the off chance.'

Janet didn't like that lingering uncertainty.

So she wanted to find her memories.

To confirm whether she'd been abandoned or not.

"I'll look into whether there are any lists of child soldiers who fought in the war."

"Thank you, Theo."

"Hmm. Did you use the name 'Janet' back then too? Girls often used masculine pseudonyms."

"I'm not sure. I haven't remembered that far yet."

"Really? Then it might take some time. In fact, unless you're a noble, records of enlisted soldiers aren't well preserved."

Tsk. Clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, the Marchioness clenched his fist toward Janet.

"But I'll do my best to find traces! Trust me!"

"I'll help too."

"Thank you both. Oh, and I don't know if this information will help, but……"

Janet cautiously extended her left wrist, which bore no visible markings.

"I have a Blessed Phrase."

At Janet's words, Theo blinked.

He'd never imagined she had a Blessed Phrase.

Just as Janet smiled awkwardly at him—

"Oh, that might be a clue!"

Liam clapped his hands and nodded.

Blessed Phrases are never duplicated.

Even if two phrases carry the same power, they're expressed in different sentences or words.

So a Blessed Phrase could serve as an excellent clue for identifying a person.

"So, what phrase were you given?"

"Salvation."

"……What?"

At the Marchioness's startled question, Janet repeated clearly.

"Salvation. Those two syllables are all there is."

……Salvation.

Truly, Salvation?

The Marchioness chewed over her words again and again.

Her embarrassed addition of, "It's a bit unusual, isn't it?" didn't even register.

He couldn't help it.

'Salvation.'

That short Blessed Phrase was something Xenia, his lost daughter, had been born with.

---

"What do you think about what she said earlier?"

"She's not the type to lie. I can vouch for that, having watched her closely."

Liam agreed with Theo's words.

Though he hadn't known Janet long, she didn't seem like someone who would lie.

Which meant——

"……Could Janet really be our Xenia?"

As the Marchioness muttered dazedly and staggered, Theo quickly steadied him.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm, I'm fine. Just a bit weak……"

Even on the battlefield, he'd never seen Liam like this.

He was always a man who laughed heartily and rattled others, but now he was just a pitiful father who'd lost his child.

If this had happened before, Liam would have rejoiced without hesitation.

But two previous failures had made him hesitant. There were clearly odd points that prevented him from joyfully accepting Janet as Xenia.

Not remembering her childhood was one thing—but Xenia had originally had hazelnut hair and blue eyes.

'That child's eyes were…… a deep navy blue.'

They could be considered a shade of blue, but they weren't the clear blue of his or Richard's.

Young Xenia had closely resembled their eye color.

And her hair color went without saying.

"By any chance, did that child have a rabbit-shaped burn scar on the back of her hand?"

"No. There was nothing like that."

Theo recalled the first time he'd met Janet.

Given his profession, he had a habit of thoroughly observing his counterpart.

At the time, Janet's hands were rough and calloused from harsh labor—but that was all.

There was no distinctive scar that would catch the eye.

"Guild Master."

"Y-yes."

"Wouldn't it be best to confirm through the family heirloom?"

In fact, there was a surefire way to identify Xenia.

Using the Ortega family's heirloom—the 'Sacred Sword.'

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