[Hmph. A joke? Does it look like a joke to you?]

Aeri smashed her small head against the end of Ricarion’s staff. The transparent wings fluttered, and jade-green winds rippled around them.

[Then kill me! Go ahead and try to kill me!]

Ricarion looked at the defiant Aeri with disdain and recalled the Earth Sword Gaius.

The holy sword Gaius, known as the Earth Sword.

This staff-shaped holy sword, said to be made from fine-grained wood cut by the goddess Yustera from the “Sea of Trees,” can borrow the power of the earth to make a spring gush forth in a desert, or even manipulate the layers of the earth to change the terrain itself.

The virtue required to be recognized as the owner of Gaius is “benevolence,” like Mother Earth.

Aeri glared fiercely at Ricarion and fluttered up, but was immediately caught by the owner of Gaius, who reached out and grabbed her wings.

[The owner of Gaius should be benevolent! Let go! You’re going to tear my wings!]

“My benevolence and patience depend on the subject. You’re not behaving in a way that deserves it.”

As if to show that he wasn’t joking, a deep crimson aura flickered at the fingertips of Ricarion’s hand holding Aeri’s wings.

As the aura slowly spread along the fine horizontal and vertical veins of the wings, Aeri flailed her body in disgust.

[The Duke is going to die anyway! Now that you’ve seen, you know. With my current power, I can’t even completely cure the Duke!]

“Whether he’s fully cured or not. At least keep him alive.”

[Aah! Okay! I got it, so stop!]

When the aura dug into her body, Aeri surrendered, unable to endure it any longer.

“If you run away, you die?”

[Tsk. Ricarion, your goal isn’t to save the Duke, you just don’t want to see Yuriella cry, right?]

Aeri suspiciously scanned Ricarion while pushing the remaining Gaius’s energy from her wings with a green aura. She squinted her round eyes stuck in her small face.

‘He looks fine on the outside, but he’s nasty, really.’

He was the owner of the Demon Tower who freely changed his appearance in front of people, but in Aeri’s eyes, Ricarion’s original appearance was visible.

Sometimes he appeared as a hundred-year-old man with a white beard dragging on the ground, sometimes as an irritable silver-haired pretty boy at his peak. Now, in front of Yuriella, he revealed himself as an innocent-looking stable boy.

But the real Ricarion Greco had the appearance of a swordsman with smooth, tanned skin and a body as solid as a rock, worthy of being the owner of the Earth Sword Gaius.

His deep violet eyes, from which a comfortable smile never left, were deep and affectionate, and his straight nose bridge and soft lips looked so faithful that they made people believe and follow whatever he said.

So when she readily accepted the request. How dare he threaten her to hand over her bundle, taking her kindness for granted.

[Don’t overdo it! Do you feel guilty for leading Solas to the Sword of Fire? It was Flama who chose that child! It’s not your fault that Flama suddenly became a Demon Sword, or that the child was beheaded by the Emperor! You gave a pretty vessel to a soul that was about to wander the Nine Heavens. Why do you keep urging me like a debt collector?]

“No time. Instead of babbling nonsense, go and help Yuriella.”

[Yuriella said she wouldn’t make a contract with me!]

Aeri pouted and turned her head away.

That was the problem.

She thought Yuriella would gladly accept, but she refused the contract with Aeri.

Only after persuading her several times that her power would be useful in suppressing the Duke’s illness did Yuriella reluctantly nod her head, saying she would borrow the power for a while.

With a very reluctant face!

Frowning hard!

That scratched Aeri’s pride. She graciously offered something she didn’t want to give, but Yuriella kept refusing to take it, which was shocking and annoying.

“Yuriella probably needed time to think too.”

[Think? How dare she? Hey, Demon Tower Master. I’m Aeri. Aeri.]

There’s so much that can be done with the Sword of Wind.

Even seeing it once should be an honor for anyone who has held a sword, yet she dared to refuse the glory of becoming its owner at once.

[Hmph. Now I’m the one refusing. Always Flama, Flama! Comparing me to Flama all the time!]

“Did Yuriella really compare you to Flama?”

Ricarion tilted his head crookedly.

[She did! She must have! But what if I can’t find my original power or summon the Sword of Wind? How much will she look down on me and laugh at me!]

Five hundred years ago, when Aeri went into a deep sleep, she thought she would never wake up again.

It seemed like she had carelessly broken off her power that she would never use or look for again and threw it away… But she couldn’t remember where she had thrown the main body.

She had hidden a piece of her soul the size of a speck of dust at the end of the aurora beyond the Icy Sea, thinking no one would disturb her deep sleep. But now it was holding her back.

In her current state, she couldn’t even detect where her original power was. It was unbelievably frustrating.

“Aeri.”

Ricarion carefully placed Aeri on his palm and whispered softly.

“You like Yuriella too. You lent her your power and lingered around the inn because you like her, right?”

[No!]

“Yes. You like Yuriella. You want to make a contract with her.”

The reclusive Demon Tower sage brushed back his sweet chocolate-colored curly hair and affectionately curved his jewel-like violet eyes.

[D-don’t look at me with those pretty eyes! I won’t be fooled by your flattery anymore!]

Ricarion stroked Aeri’s fluffy cabbage-cloud-like hair and turned his gaze to the room where Yuriella was struggling with the Duke’s demonic poison.

“Yuriella… that child Solas, she doesn’t dislike you. She just needs time to let go of Flama.”

He didn’t need to see to know how much pain that child was in right now, embracing the bitter wounds inflicted by her own hands.

“Solas couldn’t even properly say goodbye to Flama. Flama was her only friend and alter ego that she never let go of… So Aeri, can’t you understand her a little?”

Ricarion remembered how much Solas cherished and loved Flama.

On the bloody battlefields where the Emperor drove them out, Flama was Solas’s sustaining pride and honor. Just as that sword protected her, she also wanted to protect the sword.

On the battlefields where even a speck of unjust intention was revealed, she would rather choose the pain of her bones being crushed and collide with her whole body than draw the sacred sword.

So how shocked and heartbroken must she have been to see Flama spewing out the pitch-black demonic poison. How guilty and heartbroken she must have been. It could only be slow and difficult to even let go of mourning the farewell.

Aeri fluttered up onto Ricarion’s palm, pouting her fresh lips.

[Oh, I don’t know! Why do I have to be the only one to understand?]

Even as she grumbled, Ricarion smiled faintly as he watched the holy sword spirit fly towards the room where Yuriella was.

And he tapped the wooden staff on the floor to spread the barrier he had set up in the hallway.

Yuriella’s new father, who had gone to find his daughter at the duke’s residence as usual and was beaten up, stopped moving as he climbed the stairs. The guests returning after a tiring day also stopped moving.

*

‘Ah, I thought I was going to die. My heart nearly burst.’

Seeing the soundly sleeping Duke, I could finally breathe.

“Aeri. Thank you.”

When Aeri lent her power, a strong healing aura soaked into the silver needles, and new flesh rose again on the skin that had been swelling red and melting away every time I stuck the needles into the demonic poison-afflicted wound. The convulsing body also subsided, and the rough breathing regained stability.

[You have to keep your promise, right?]

Aeri circled around my head and nagged in my ear.

The semi-transparent contract floating in the air had as many as twenty-five items that I had to abide by from now on.

1- Tell Aeri “I love you” three times a day!

2- Don’t stay out overnight! When you absolutely have to, get Aeri’s permission!

3- Don’t cheat on Aeri with other holy swords! Don’t even look at them!

The following items were all like this.

It felt like I was looking at a marriage vow handed over by an obsessive man, not making a contract with a holy sword. The strangest thing was the very last clause.

25- Never, never, never love the Duke!

[You made a promise, so you have to keep it! You signed it, so you can’t break it!]

The signed contract dried in the air and became a small green dot, flowing into Aeri’s hand.

What is this obsessive holy sword?

Is it something like the obsessive duke character that appears in the romance novels the imperial palace maids love to read? I heard those obsessive dukes go crazy with obsession and jealousy, harming and tormenting the object of their affection.

Thinking like that, there seems to be a bit of madness in the two eyes stuck like grains on the nail-sized face. This one’s a bit creepy?

I also felt bad for borrowing her power for free. Seeing the Duke’s complexion return, I was moved to make the contract…

“Aeri. Show me the contract again. Let’s remove clause 25.”

Aeri flew back and hid her hands behind her back.

[No. 25 is the most important!]

“It’s a clause that’s not even necessary anyway?”

[It’s necessary. My master should become the wife of a man more reliable and with prettier eyes than the Duke!]

Like Ricarion, the reclusive Demon Tower master.

[It’s a fake marriage anyway. Once you cure his illness, leave, Yuriella. I’m sure you can meet a noble man if you go west!]

Ricarion’s Demon Tower is in the west. It’s a secret that the noble man who worries about you is right next to you now.

[You suffered a lot when you were Solas, so now meet a man with a generous soul who is not bound by anything and live comfortably.]

He may be the culprit who woke me from my deep sleep and threatened to tear my wings, but that Demon Tower guy will live a long life. Who knows when the Duke will die. I think I’d be really sad if my master was a widow with a broken heart.

[You understood what I said, right?]

Aeri asked me, her tiny eyes filled with various complex thoughts.

“No.”

[Even if you don’t understand, listen to your elders. I have existed since the continent was born.]

Yeah, Aeri, looking at you, it seems true that getting older doesn’t necessarily make you wiser.

“I appreciate you thinking of me.”

I’m not grateful at all, actually, but I’ll count it as gratitude for saving the Duke’s life.

“But we made a contract, so could you please leave now? The Duke needs to rest in absolute peace right now. When he comes to his senses, he’ll sense your energy. I don’t know what that thing is, but it’ll be detrimental to his health if he’s concerned about it.”

Suddenly, the air in the room trembled, and Aeri disappeared, cutting through the air with a hurt face. I think I heard a “hmph” sound too.

Is she sulking again? If she was born when the continent was created, how old is she really?

This is why you can’t judge anything by its appearance.

The Emperor also has a peerless appearance. But he committed the atrocity of turning Flama into a demon sword with that appearance. He knows better than anyone what kind of existence Flama is to me.

Eugh. I thought of that bastard Justin’s face again. Once that guy comes to mind, it sticks like glue and doesn’t come off easily.

“…Mmm.”

“Your Grace! Are you conscious?”

“Yuriella…?”

“Yes! It’s me. Do you recognize me?”

When the Duke tightly grasped my happily extended hand, thoughts of that sticky bastard disappeared like a lie.

Seeing the Duke’s eyelids open and his refreshing North Sea-like blue eyes, my heart that had been heavy with various thoughts felt like it had been cleared.

As expected.

Our Duke, he wasn’t the owner of the Ice Sword for nothing. The gentle smile directed at me makes my heavy heart ripple. In the future, when I get angry or frustrated, I should look into the Duke’s eyes.

The thought that this new lord and I were off to a good start made my heart flutter.

*

The next day, in the Rose Garden of the Imperial Palace Blanc Casa.

“Another failed assassination?”

“Your Majesty…!”

Justin plucked a rose with sharp thorns expressionlessly, not even looking at Aaron who was flat on the ground, sobbing that he had committed a mortal sin.

The ground was already strewn with brutally plucked roses. Blood dripped from His Majesty’s hand.

Seeing the blood dripping in front of him, Aaron’s prostrated body trembled.

“Your Majesty. If we send the crows again-.”

“Those damn crows, crows. If I hear the word crow one more time, I’ll make you crow food.”

“T-then we’ll select skilled members from the guild again-.”

“Enough. Prepare to go north.”

“Pardon? To the north?”

“I heard my brother Frost had an elopement.”

“But the Duke didn’t formally send an invitation. Even if you go, they won’t welcome-.”

“The bride-to-be was a dancer in a wandering apothecary troupe? An illegitimate child of Duke Grande.”

Justin wiped his blood-soaked hand on a handkerchief and put a sneer on his pretty lips.

“I’m curious to see what kind of woman my brother chose, so I can’t sleep.”

Translation complete. 100% of original text translated.