SYMDF 34

Chapter 34

 

[Life-flashback has ended.]
[Life-flashback is replaying. It has ended.]

Such messages appeared and disappeared repeatedly.

For a long time, Ion was lost in dreams, forgetting even the passage of time. Gradually, his senses began to stir, and external stimuli crept in.

At times, a sorrowful whisper echoed in his ear; at other times, murmurs of pity floated around him. Occasionally, angry voices resounded.

Sometimes, a gentle, caring touch could be felt—fingertips carefully soothing, oiling so no scabs would form, wiping his lips with lukewarm water. Such tenderness was truly warm.

…Who could it be?

Only when such thoughts surfaced did Ion slowly open his eyes by his own will.

“…”

The room was very dark, likely to prevent startling him with bright light. Without the faint, narrow beam of light leaking through the curtains and stretching across the ceiling, he might have believed it was night.

Just as Ion was about to close his dazzled eyes again, a familiar voice came into his ear:

“Ion…?”

His body felt numb. He wanted to turn and confirm who it was, but could not move his will accordingly. Instead, through half-lowered eyelids, he turned his green eyes toward the speaker.

It was his father.

It seemed the Duke of Craiger had been watching over him closely, reacting sensitively to his slightest movement.

“Have you awakened?”

His first thought at the question was whether this was reality or some dream.

He tried to call his last memories to mind.

〈Young Lord of House Craiger, I am Astatine Dylan, Vice-Commander of the Noah Knight Order.〉

The man who had scoffed courteously, who had broken the mana stone from his hand, pushing his death probability up to 92%.

And then, and then—

〈Ion! Ion!〉

Likely Camillus trying to rush mana to him had failed as a sword pierced his shoulder from behind.

Was it Vernian? Or Astatine? Or a third party?

He had not seen it and lost consciousness.

He thought that was the end—that he was dead.

“Ion, my son.”

The Duke’s voice called again, grasping Ion’s hand as he weakly closed his eyes once more.

He wanted to reply with “Yes,” but could barely utter even a single syllable. Only shallow breaths escaped. His lips trembled when he opened and closed them, and the Duke ordered someone nearby:

“His lips seem dry. Wet them.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The touch of a cloth moistening his dry lips was exactly as he had sensed in dreams—thorough and gentle. After wiping around his mouth carefully, lukewarm water trickled into his parted lips like birdseed.

His throat, long sealed, now seemed to open gradually. After a few tries, Ion spoke with a painfully cracked voice.

“Fa-ther…”

Then he relaxed and closed his eyes. He lost consciousness briefly once more, but a shaking hand brought him back. He opened his eyes, now adjusting to a changed angle of light on the ceiling.

“Ion.”

Seeing him awake at last, the Duke sank down heavily into a chair, covering his face with hands and dabbing at his cheeks.

“Ha…”

Though his appearance was severe, the sigh that escaped was weary and worn.

Truthfully, Ion asked quietly,

“I’m… really not dead, am I?”

The Duke raised his eyes. His face was paler and eyes bloodshot compared to before, but he nodded slowly.

“No, no… You’re alive. Why would you say while my son has yet to die?”

Ion smiled faintly, though tears spilled down his cheeks.

The dreams had tangled up his mind and soul; confused memories and emotions forced his face to express more than he intended.

Though he felt strange in this state, he reached back into dreams for pieces of his past.

〈He is Camillus Clodel.〉

At those words, Ion’s full attention snapped to the forgotten tower again.

Camillus.

A mysterious boy bearing the Imperial surname.

He was a mutation, born against the laws of nature. A body overflowing with mana, impossible to contain in a normal man.

This was why Camillus was called a monster—and cursed.

Ion faintly recalled a day when he found Camillus collapsed, drenched in blood, and whispered softly,

“How did Camillus…?”

“Ion.”

Before he could finish, the Duke softly spoke his name, as if warning him not to ask more.

But with shaking hands, Ion reached for his father’s sleeve.

“Wh-where…?”

“…”

“I suppose he’s still trapped in the tower… uhg…”

His throat tickled, and before completing his sentence, a harsh cough overtook him. The shuddering from the cough brought tears to his eyes.

He wondered if he’d be bedridden for a long time.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, the Duke’s hand covered his own—but not to hold. A thin thread seemed to catch his thumb, placing a small object in his palm.

At that moment, a surge of unexpected energy made Ion stop breathing.

[Status Effect “Overflowing Mana” Applied.]
[Status Effect: Overflowing Mana. The player’s body is saturated with mana. Vitality improves and negative status effects are suppressed. Death probability decreases by 35%.]

How can this be?

Hadn’t the mana stone been destroyed?

His gaze fell to his hand—there it was, the pendant-shaped mana stone.

Seeing Ion’s questioning look, the Duke explained with a serious expression,

“He gave it to you.”

The words cut short further questions. Ion’s mind reeled, repeating them over and over.

Then his mood soured, and he tried to sit up—but no strength would come to his limbs.

Admitting he could not move, Ion slumped back and whispered:

“Wh-where…?”

It took all his strength to say the single word. The Duke did not answer immediately, avoiding Ion’s insistent gaze.

Realizing his father would not yield, Ion looked elsewhere.

Few in the room, but one guard stood quietly near the door. Sir Alexei Ernst. He surely knew the whole story.

Ernst noticed Ion watching and stepped forward, kneeling at the bedside with a low bow.

“Forgive me for failing to protect you, young master.”

Though his guilt was apparent, now was not the time to judge. With gentle civility, he made clear he would reveal nothing of Camillus.

Ion changed tack.

He signaled a servant for water. Slowly, small sips, his voice weak but clearer.

“How long… was I unconscious?”

“…Two weeks.”

Already.

Though Ion guessed it had been a long while due to his stiffened body, hearing the exact length stunned him. Despite immobility, the time was significant.

Considering his death likelihood had soared to 92%, awakening at all seemed a miracle.