Home/The Seven-Year-Old Village Chief of Exile/ch 102

Chapter 102

'The director of the Magical Engineering Academy is a cautious and timid person, they said.'

I'd sent a short letter with just a few requests, and she'd done as I asked, causing a blackout in part of the commercial district.

'She seems like a good person.'

I decided to thank her in person when we meet later.

I could give her some monster meat and parts I'd captured before as a gift.

'Hmm, anyway...'

I tilted my head slightly.

'I've received help from the three groups I most wanted as allies.'

The director of the Magical Engineering Academy.

The temple.

The Stria family.

I needed to make sure these connections weren't just one-off deals, but continued into the future.

'To do that, Ixelium Village needs to grow even stronger.'

There really is no rest.

Tired, I let out a big yawn.

Just as I was smacking my lips and rubbing my sleepy eyes, the Grand Duchess gently grabbed my arm and lowered it.

Then she softly stroked my under-eyes.

Her touch was careful and gentle, like someone trying not to wake a sleeping puppy.

"......"

"......"

But her gaze, fixed on me, was anything but.

The Grand Duchess had lived as a great noble for a long time. Given her turbulent life, she'd naturally developed keen judgment and foresight.

'She must have realized.'

When I told her about the future incident to get her help, I'd seen the look on her face.

'That the Crown Prince had tried to kill her.'

The shock, betrayal, and sadness she felt.

And a hint of resignation.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how much of a shock it must have been for her.

The others felt the same. So they all held their breath, silently watching the Grand Duchess.

"Little one."

"Yes, Grand Duchess."

"You're a clever and strong child, aren't you?"

"I suppose so."

At my unpretentious answer, the Grand Duchess smiled faintly.

But I couldn't smile back.

"What would you do, if you were me?"

"......"

"I don't know anymore..."

"......"

"It all feels like my fault. Because I was too harsh with that child, because I couldn't hide my discomfort, Pereus turned out that way...!"

"Sometimes."

I cut off the Grand Duchess and interjected.

"There are children born that way."

The Grand Duchess blinked at me in surprise.

I gave a bitter smile.

"They're born with a disposition that's indifferent to others' suffering and willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals."

In my eyes, the Crown Prince had already crossed many lines.

He'd tried to use human lives twice, and he'd shredded the faces of the employees—though they were undead, they still had human forms—just to vent his anger.

However.

"I can't shake the thought that if he'd had just one proper adult in his life, he wouldn't have turned out this way."

"Well, the Stria family does seem rather cold."

"It's the innocent children who suffer."

The adults in the village thought differently.

The Crown Prince was only nine.

With sincere effort and help, his proto-psychopathic tendencies might be tempered.

'Of course, I don't think so.'

But that persistent effort might be the only way for the Grand Duchess to protect the treasure her dead daughter left behind.

'Though I think he should step back from power.'

As I thought that, I began to understand why Stria had declared neutrality.

"It will take a lot of effort."

"......"

"And even then, you might not succeed."

"Yes."

The Grand Duchess humbly agreed.

"Endless effort."

"......"

I envied the Crown Prince.

'You fool.'

He had no idea how precious it was to have someone worry about him this much. He was truly kicking away his own fortune.

"Grand Duchess."

Priest Chel do said gently.

"We've prepared a place for you to stay at the temple. We hope you'll be comfortable until you leave."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"Not at all."

A polite exchange followed.

But everyone knew.

'She won't be comfortable.'

How could she be?

When I had walked to the temple to gauge the situation, I'd seen the coffins the priests were carrying.

---

Truth is the daughter of time.

This saying, from an ancient myth, ultimately means that with time, the truth will always be revealed.

Today was that day.

The Holy King had visited to appraise the angel's feather acquired by the Deste Temple, and had coincidentally uncovered the brutal tragedy of the Deste mansion.

The Deste Territory became a house of mourning.

Some collapsed, screaming their children's names.

Others, insisting it couldn't be true, muttered blankly for a long time.

When they finally came to their senses, they were already running toward the Deste mansion.

They hadn't even had time to put on shoes. Their bare feet, running on the hot road, were cut and bleeding.

"My dear! My dear!"

"Your Holiness! Please, save my son!"

"It's a lie! Why would my daughter die? That can't be...!"

"Let us in! My wife is inside!"

But there was no way to enter the Deste mansion, blocked by the sacred barrier.

People pounded on the barrier until their bones cracked.

The cries of denial soon turned into curses.

"Why! Why my child...!"

"I will never forgive you! Never!"

The holy knights surrounding the mansion didn't stop the grieving families from cursing.

They simply looked away, turned a deaf ear, and silently empathized with their pain.

'...It's clear.'

A young holy knight looked up at the sky, trying to hide his tears.

The summer sky, without a single cloud, was so bright and clear that it only made the tragedy of this moment feel more cruel.

'God.'

The holy knight prayed.

'......'

But he couldn't think of what to pray for.

---

A week later.

All the shops in the Deste Territory had closed.

White and black ribbons were tied around doors and windows, and vases with white flowers were placed in front of each door.

People wore black clothes and tied their hair neatly.

When they met acquaintances, they quietly embraced and comforted each other, and when they saw someone crying, they shed tears with them.

Today was the joint funeral for the employees of the Deste mansion who had become undead.

'The sky is cruel too.'

Hebenia wandered alone in the temple garden.

'Not a single drop of rain.'

It had been clear skies all week.

Yet people's hearts were too shadowed to let in any light.

As Hebenia wandered aimlessly, the sound of crying reached her ears.

She couldn't tell if it was from the ongoing funeral, or if it was an auditory hallucination from hearing it constantly all week.

But Hebenia didn't particularly care.

"Rita, age 20..."

She matched her steps to the sound of crying, reciting the names and details of the dead one by one.

Rita, 20. An orange-haired girl with a pretty smile. She has a younger brother attending the academy on a scholarship.

Austia, 32. Light yellow hair. A maid who had just finished paying off her mortgage with her husband a few months ago.

Lippi, 42. The oldest employee of the Deste mansion. A gardener who worked alongside his son.

Shark, 18. The gardener's son. A boy who learned his trade from his father and was interested in romance.

Arche, 17, wheat-colored hair. An orphan from another region, a diligent maid who sent half her salary to the orphanage.

She had memorized thirty-five names in total.

On the day she first saw the bodies at the Deste mansion, Hebenia had estimated there were over twenty.

But the actual number of undead discovered was thirty-five.

Undead are supposed to be purified immediately upon discovery, just as Olive had done when protecting the Grand Duchess in the square.

But the Holy King hadn't done that.

He'd summoned all the families to the Deste mansion and purified the undead one by one before their eyes.

The walking corpses scattered into dust and vanished.

So the thirty-five coffins laid out today were empty.

They contained only the clothes they'd worn when they died, filled with the belongings they'd cherished in life.

'It's not my fault, but...'

Hebenia, wandering aimlessly, stopped in front of a field.

It was the vegetable patch where the wilted Dulcevia herbs drooped.

'If I'd reported the deaths to the temple back then...'

At least the victims' remains would have been preserved.

They wouldn't have suffered the indignity of becoming undead.

"...Ugh!"

Smack—!

'Snap out of it!'

Her small hands slapped her plump cheeks.

'If I keep thinking that way, I'll end up blaming myself for everything! Instead of getting gloomy, think about what to do next!'

Hebenia held her stinging cheeks in her hands and steeled her resolve.

'What I need to do now is find a way to ease the pain of the victims and their families.'

She had received a lot of help from the dead victims.

'They became our guides to the Antema Lab. And even when Uncle Modi worked in Molle Livus's place, they provided us with many conveniences.'

So as the village chief, she would definitely repay them.

Hebenia looked around.

After confirming there was no one nearby, she extended her left arm, which wore the watch.

"Summon."

An upright pentagram rose from the soil.

Hebenia's eyes widened at the sight of the summoned angel.

"Don't smile. I'll get attached."

"Go ahead, you look good."

"Get to the point."

The half-naked, muscular, handsome angel with flowing platinum blonde hair and fluttering white wings asked irritably.

Hebenia opened her subspace and pulled out what she'd prepared.

"These are the names and addresses of the families of the victims who became undead."

Hebenia made her wish.

"Let them meet the dead victims in their dreams."

"What about the dream's content?"

"Tell them not to be too sad, that they've gone to heaven, and that they hope they'll live well even though it's hard..."

"......"

"Please help them—even in their sadness—to find peaceful sleep."

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