Chapter 54
“To Grace”
It seemed Herion was far more capable than Seles had originally thought. After all, the fact that he was already using this person so naturally said it all.
“Hm.”
As she unfolded the letter and began to read, Seles’s brow twitched.
It was several pages long, filled with frantic handwriting — but the entire message could be summarized in one line:
“Please help me!”
Apparently, there was chaos everywhere. The knights, in particular, were the biggest problem.
Even after she became the new head of the Elresia family, they refused to listen to her at all.
“But… why is she asking me for help?”
Sure, Seles did feel some sense of responsibility. But still, receiving this kind of letter left her speechless.
‘Well, I did see her often for a while.’
During all those little “tests” she had run, they’d met fairly frequently — enough to form a thin layer of familiarity, perhaps.
But the problem was, the request wasn’t about healing techniques or anything related to her specialty.
It was about helping resolve Elresia family affairs.
“Isn’t that a little strange? I mean, I’m an outsider. What makes her think I’d get involved in that? Or trust me to begin with?”
[I told her to.]
“…What?”
[I told her to leave anything difficult to you. That I’d vouch for you.]
“…”
Seles turned her head slowly and stared at Jubelios, who was looking rather proud of himself, as if expecting praise for his brilliance.
Had this idiot really been with her for so long and still not figured out what kind of person she was?
That she was the kind of woman who would lose all motivation the moment someone tried to make her do something?
“Cheyan.”
“Hm?”
“Let’s roast that damn bird alive.”
[I-I just remembered! I’m busy! Gotta go!]
As Jubelios vanished in a panic, Seles clicked her tongue lightly.
At least he did seem to understand that she wasn’t the type to bluff for no reason.
Late at night — when everyone else was asleep.
But the Tower never truly slept. Countless rooms still glowed with light, filled with magicians burning the midnight oil over their research.
“So quiet.”
Seles couldn’t sleep either.
Tomorrow she’d finish her temporary secretary duties and return home. But her eyes kept drifting toward one place.
A small, white building.
A magical space left behind by Artea, a former master of the Tower.
Normally, that place was bustling with people, but tonight it was unusually still. Likely because of the upcoming promotion exam.
Once a year, the Tower held promotion exams to earn or keep private laboratories. Those who failed even once would lose their lab.
So, everyone in the Tower was buried in personal practice and study — far too busy to bother with the building Artea had left behind.
“…”
After one last glance around, Seles began to walk toward it.
Before leaving the Tower, she felt she had to visit the place — at least once.
Even if only to see the faintest trace of him.
Just to meet him again, even in a memory.
Click—
As she approached, the magically sealed door opened on its own, as if recognizing her.
A bright light spilled from within. The door shut behind her, enclosing her in a perfectly isolated space.
If she remembered correctly, once someone entered, no one else could come in until the challenger gave up.
Vmmm—
A faint vibration filled the air, and before her appeared a hazy figure.
A boy — no older than six.
[Welcome to the first room.]
“…Arti.”
It was the young Artea.
Just as he had been when she first met him — playful and full of mischief.
A faint smile spread on Seles’s lips.
[Here’s your first question. You should at least know this much, right? What’s my full name and birthday?]
“…Artea Rucalos. June 14th, 1185.”
[Correct.]
The first question was easy — expected, really.
Fwoosh!
With a burst of light, a door appeared in the empty space.
She stepped through it and entered another, similar room — where a slightly older Artea stood waiting.
[Second question.]
And so it continued.
To proceed, Seles had to answer more and more questions.
Just as Cheyan had said, none of them were about magic. Every question was about Artea himself.
His favorite flower, his favorite color, favorite food…
Each small, personal detail made Seles smile as she answered.
More than anything, she was glad — because with each room, Artea grew older.
From the little boy she once knew, to the young man she’d last seen — and even beyond, to the version of him she had never met.
Watching him age through the years filled her heart with a bittersweet warmth. She opened each new door eagerly, waiting for the next glimpse of him.
[This is the 25th room. Congratulations for coming this far.]
So this was even beyond the final door Cheyan had opened.
Standing before the middle-aged Artea, Seles felt a wave of emotion wash over her.
She hadn’t touched a single magical artifact or formula along the way. That wasn’t why she was here.
[Welcome.]
Now, before her, stood Artea in his old age — eyes still bright with mischief.
The sight made Seles’s chest ache.
My dear Arti… you’ve grown so old.
[This is the final question.]
So this was the end.
Seles felt reluctant. She wanted to see him a little longer.
As if sensing her heart, Artea smiled softly and looked her straight in the eyes.
Though she knew it was a magical projection, it felt real — as if he truly saw her.
[April 3rd, 1213.]
…April 3rd?
[What were the last words I said to Grace that day?]
“…”
Seles couldn’t speak.
She could only stare at him — that gentle smile, that face she still remembered so clearly.
April 3rd, 1213.
She remembered that day perfectly.
‘Arti…’
It was the day he learned of her illness.
The secret she had hidden all her life — revealed when he found her collapsing, coughing up blood.
He had stood frozen at first, eyes wide in disbelief… then silently began to cry.
And after crying for a long time, as he left, he said only one thing:
“Wait for me.”
“…I’ll save you.”
Seles whispered, barely audible.
At her words, Artea’s smile deepened.
Was it just her imagination, or did his gaze grow gentler too?
[Grace.]
“…!”
[I kept my promise.]
“…What?”
Fwoooosh!
Before she could even process his words, a brilliant light enveloped her.
This was different — brighter, warmer.
“…Another door?”
So it wasn’t over yet.
Seles stepped forward slowly, glancing back one last time.
Artea was still there, smiling softly at her — and then, his image dissolved.
With a faint ache in her chest, she turned toward the light and opened the new door.
Clack.
“…!”
The moment she entered, her steps froze.
A garden — overflowing with flowers.
Endless, white blossoms spread out in all directions like snow.
“Lunaria…” she murmured.
‘Grace, what do you think of this flower?’
‘It’s pretty. What is it?’
‘It’s called Lunaria. It only grows in the western regions — not useful as an herb, though.’
‘Of course not, if even I don’t know it.’
‘Do you know what its flower language means?’
‘Do I need to?’
‘Lunaria means…’
“…‘I’ll wait for you.’”
A breeze swept through the garden, scattering white petals around her like snowflakes.
I’ll wait for you.
I’ve waited so long for you.
I missed you so much.
It felt as if the entire space was whispering those words.
Seles stood there silently for a long time before finally moving again.
At the center of the flower field, something floated — glowing faintly.
“…A letter?”
Suspended in midair, it drifted gently down as she approached, the light around it fading until it landed softly in her hand.
“To Grace.”
She recognized that handwriting instantly.
Artea — blessed with mana, a genius among mages — yet utterly hopeless when it came to penmanship.
Crooked, messy, impossible to fix no matter how much she’d tried to teach him.
