Chapter 01
“Ugh… Lady Grace…”
“Sob… hic…”
The room was not lavish, yet it carried a quiet elegance.
Upon the pristine white bed lay a woman in her late twenties, surrounded by many who had gathered at her side.
Every face was shadowed with grief, their eyes red and swollen as they wept in hushed silence.
“Lady Grace, please! Please open your eyes! Wake up, I beg you! Sob…”
“…Disciple.”
“Y-yes, Master!”
“You’re hurting my ears.”
“…Pardon?”
“My ears. Stop screaming, you fool…”
Because I’ve been awake for quite a while now. And my eyes have been open all along.
Her face was pale as death, her body little more than skin and bone. Yet, the voice that spilled from her lips was clear and strong.
“…Ah.”
Her dim-witted disciple blinked, stunned, and Grace clicked her tongue in annoyance.
Who would believe that this boyish face—looking no older than his late teens—actually belonged to a man nearly thirty?
Perhaps that was why. Even now, it felt almost irresponsible to entrust him with anything before leaving this world behind.
“Enoch.”
“Yes, Master.”
At the soft sound of his name, Enoch’s eyes welled with fresh tears.
The realization that there would soon be no more such calls stabbed at him with a pain sharper than before.
But he could not send his master off with such a pitiful display. Hastily, he removed his round spectacles and wiped at his eyes.
Grace clicked her tongue again. At this rate, he’d be sniffling snot as well.
With a faint flick of her fingers, she beckoned him closer. He rushed to her side at once.
“And Kai?”
“Ah… that… Sir Kainel should be hearing the news by now.”
At the mention of that name, Enoch’s complexion blanched further.
“B-but Master, was it really right to tell him so late? Shouldn’t he have been informed much sooner—?”
“He’d only have caused trouble if he knew earlier.”
This was the best choice.
Even she could not predict what Kainel might do once he learned of her condition.
If he didn’t storm off to slay a dragon and force its blood down her throat, that alone would be a miracle.
The thought itself was exhausting.
“He’ll still be devastated…”
“Enoch.”
“Yes, Master.”
She gestured for him to lean closer still. He bent his ear toward her lips, as though expecting some grave secret.
“When Kai arrives…”
“Yes?”
“…Run.”
“…Eh?”
“You know his temper.”
“…”
Kainel’s temper…
Enoch swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.
“Take the others and get out.”
“…U-understood!”
Grace sighed, regarding her disciple with weary eyes.
She thought of the two young men—wolves to the world, sheep only before her—and worry pressed heavier upon her heart.
Especially Kainel. That man would sooner tear the others apart for failing to protect their master than forgive them.
“Of course, as foul-tempered as he is, he wouldn’t actually kill—”
“…”
“…Just run.”
“Yes, Master!”
They both knew the truth of Kainel’s nature. Running was the only answer.
Boom!
“Hhk!”
“W-what was that?!”
The door burst open with a deafening crash.
Step.
A man entered.
Hair white as snow, without a speck of dust. Eyes like polished silver.
His very presence, as cold and cutting as an ice sculpture, froze everyone in place.
No one dared to breathe too loudly, lest the sharp frost in the air slice them to ribbons.
Step.
From the moment he crossed the threshold, his gaze never left Grace. Without pause, he walked directly to her bedside.
“Kai?”
Enoch, you little wretch…
You told me he’d only just heard the news. Then how is he already here?
“What—how did you arrive so quickly…?”
Ah.
Realization struck her, and despite her weakness, a disbelieving laugh slipped past her lips.
The distance between this estate and the Duchy of Persia was anything but short.
If he was here already, then…
He must have burned through a few magicians to get here.
Grace could easily imagine the chaos he’d caused, and she shook her head inwardly.
“Welcome.”
She greeted him warmly, smiling as brightly as she could manage.
She had complained that his presence would only be troublesome, but seeing her friend’s face—one last time—was strangely comforting.
If she had passed without it, regret would have clung to her even in death.
“…”
Kainel stood wordless for a long moment, his expression slowly twisting.
At last, he exhaled a heavy breath and dragged a hand across his face.
“…Explain.”
The low rumble of his voice carried like a blade.
Of course. He was never one to be fooled by a smile.
Suppressing a sigh, Grace forced herself to keep smiling.
“I’ve found a sickness even I can’t cure.”
“Wait. I’ll find a way—”
She grabbed his hand before he could storm out the door.
Her grip was frail, weightless, and that alone deepened the furrow of his brow.
“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you sooner. If I can’t cure it, then who can? Have you forgotten who I am?”
Grace Elesia—the Saint, they called her. The woman who had conquered one rare illness after another, saving countless lives.
If there was a disease beyond her reach, then it was already hopeless.
Arrogant words, perhaps, but undeniable truth.
“So that’s why you kept refusing to see me.”
He recalled every flimsy excuse she had given, every time she had barred him from visiting.
Grace turned her gaze aside.
“I was barely holding on as it was. I didn’t want to waste my last strength worrying about you too.”
“…Selfish, to the very end.”
Grace chuckled faintly. Seeing his face, colder and harder than ever, she lifted a trembling hand and beckoned him closer.
Whip!
The instant he leaned in, she seized his collar.
“Kai.”
“…Speak.”
He did not flinch. He had grown used to her impulsive ways long ago.
“Don’t touch the children.”
“…”
“Don’t vent your anger on them over my death.”
Her breath caught, her voice faltering with fatigue. Even in dying, she had to worry about this.
“Don’t hit them, don’t kill them. Just… leave them be.”
They say old sayings are never wrong. Perhaps this is why they warn you to choose your friends wisely.
Though she tried to cover her plea with a biting jest, Kainel’s lips stayed shut.
Grace narrowed her eyes.
So he had been thinking of punishing them. Damn him.
“Answer me.”
“…Fine.”
At last, she released her grip.
Yet Kainel did not move away. He simply remained at her side, staring down at her.
That unyielding gaze drew another faint smile to her lips.
“…Shame.”
“…”
“I always wanted to see you cry at least once. And now, when I finally have the perfect chance, I won’t even get to…”
“Why.”
“…You won’t tell me you wouldn’t even shed a tear when I’m gone, will you?”
Her fingers reached up, lightly brushing the deep crease of his brow.
But the touch soon faltered, her hand falling limp.
Kainel caught it instantly, holding on tight.
“…I’m tired.”
“Grace.”
“I want to rest now.”
“…Not yet.”
“Tch. You’re just as selfish as I am, you know that?”
Her lips curved with a weary laugh.
The sight of him—silent, sullen, stubborn—brought back memories of their childhood.
“…Don’t fight with Alty.”
And so, her old nagging slipped out unbidden.
“Eat well. Stay out of trouble.”
“…”
“…And don’t get sick.”
Her eyes closed gently with those words.
Kainel’s gaze sank heavier and darker, as if the weight of the world pressed down on him.
Even as her warmth faded, he refused to let go of her hand, clinging to it for long, silent moments.
Grace Elesia.
The young Countess who had restored House Elesia to its former glory.
To some, she was a saint the world could not do without.
To others, she was a devil beyond redemption.
And on October 18th, 1213, Grace Elesia closed her eyes for the final time.
