Episode 55
I furrowed my brow without realizing it. The count’s praise felt a bit excessive.
Leaning back in his chair and intertwining his fingers, the count observed me once more, slowly and deliberately.
“In fact, I went through every article written about you.”
I flinched slightly. I hadn’t expected him to take such a deep interest in me.
“They say you have the ability to communicate with magical beasts. I heard you returned the hippogriff that attacked the commercial district in Kasiya back to its nest. But you couldn’t communicate with the basilisk?”
I fell silent for a moment, lost in thought at his question.
There was more than simple curiosity in his voice—there was a sharp intent, something probing.
I decided to answer honestly.
“First of all, I couldn’t look directly at the basilisk because of the risk of paralysis. Its cry didn’t sound like words with meaning—it just sounded like a beast’s roar.”
I paused to gauge his reaction.
Maybe it was because I saw the basilisk through a mirror, but I couldn’t see the usual streaks of light that reveal hostility in bird-type magical beasts.
It was probably because it wasn’t classified as a bird-type.
“There are limits to the kinds of magical beasts I can communicate with. I can’t pacify all of them.”
“You’re being modest. Even so, your ability is undeniably extraordinary.”
The count raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded.
He paused, then began sorting through the papers on his desk as he continued.
“According to Prince Antonio, the basilisk did indeed turn to dust… but the remaining dark energy seeped into the soil of the forest. There’s a possibility that in a few years, that energy could give rise to another magical beast.”
Though his voice remained calm, I could hear the concern clearly beneath it.
“The problem is, there are only four mages in Marcana. And none of them are trained for combat. Realistically, we have no way to prepare for what’s coming.”
I listened silently, my thoughts turning inward.
He wasn’t just expressing concern—he seemed to be planning something. That much was clear.
His gaze remained fixed on me, filled with a strange intensity—both passionate and deliberate.
“We definitely need a countermeasure.”
I nodded in agreement.
Still, I couldn’t fully drop my guard. I hadn’t yet figured out his true intent.
What exactly is this count plotting?
As if reading my mind, he gave me a gentle smile.
“You’ve been living as a nomadic knight, haven’t you…? Perhaps you’re in need of a place to settle?”
The offer caught me off guard.
I masked my surprise and mulled over his words.
The count’s crimson eyes were still locked on me.
There was something more than simple goodwill in that gaze.
It felt like a mixture of testing—and the desire to make me his ally.
“A place to settle…?”
I asked cautiously.
“Could you explain exactly what you mean by that?”
The count leaned back in his chair again, his expression relaxed.
“Marcana needs someone like you. Your wit and abilities would truly shine here.”
Though his tone was gentle, there was a firm conviction in his words.
“Of course, it’s just a suggestion. There’s no pressure. I’m simply curious whether you see a future for yourself here.”
I didn’t reply right away. I met his gaze in silence.
I couldn’t tell how sincere he truly was, but I was certain he wasn’t saying this just to flatter me.
Then, he rose from his seat.
“Then, I’ll see you at the banquet tonight. I daresay the celebration will be in your honor.”
The count’s final words sounded more like a declaration than a casual invitation. This offer held far more weight than simple courtesy.
“They said the core wasn’t a bird, but a snake… so I tried this, and it worked.”
Kallen let out a sigh of relief.
Her eyes were complex as she looked down at the dark green leaves and yellow flowers in her hands. The tension and worry on the faces of those around us were beginning to ease.
In one corner of the infirmary, the petrified bodies of the afflicted were slowly beginning to change. Their skin, once ashen-gray like stone, was gradually returning to its original color.
One man’s forearm still looked hard as rock, but the tips of his fingers were softening, regaining warmth and a healthy hue.
Kallen carefully applied an ointment made from crushed leaves onto the patient’s skin. As soon as the salve touched the stone-like surface, fine cracks appeared, and the texture began to soften. The ointment seeped into those cracks, and slowly, the petrified flesh began to regain its original texture.
“They really are coming back to life…”
A steward of the count’s household murmured, swallowing hard. His voice held a mix of relief and awe.
Kallen didn’t even turn her head. Instead, she gently grasped the patient’s stiff fingers, pressing lightly with her own. Though still rigid, she could feel the faintest pulse. Letting go, she scooped out more ointment.
“Can I ask what kind of herb ruta is?”
I asked as I watched her work.
Kallen paused for a moment, then set the bowl down and wiped the ointment from her hands with a cloth.
“It’s a plant used to neutralize viper venom.”
She answered briefly, then returned to her task.
“In Saragot, we use it when someone is poisoned by snake-type magical beasts. Seems like the basilisk uses a similar type of venom—it drains body heat.”
I listened to her explanation as I checked on the other patients. One young girl’s legs, which had been turned to stone, were gradually softening. Though her face was still pained, the faintest trace of color was returning to her cheeks.
“It’s such a relief that this plant grows in Marcana too.”
Kallen paused her hand for a moment and let out a slow breath.
“They call it ruta here. I almost didn’t find it because the name was different.”
The steward nearby nodded in agreement, visibly relieved.
“It’s lucky that the flora of the Tristum Empire isn’t too different from Saragot’s.”
This time, Kallen fed each patient a spoonful of ruta-infused water. At first, their lips remained stiff, but as the liquid entered their mouths, they began to move slightly. One man managed to open his mouth and whisper.
“Am… I… alive…?”
His voice was faint, but clearly alive.
“Yes, you are.”
Kallen answered firmly, gripping his hand tightly.
The infirmary was quiet—but filled with hope. Though the patients hadn’t yet fully recovered, their skin was slowly coming back to life. Their bodies—and their souls—were gradually returning.
Applying one last bit of ointment to the back of the man’s hand, Kallen said:
“We’ll have to keep this up for at least a week. It’ll take time… but they will recover.”
She looked tired, but her eyes remained sharp.
I was quietly astonished by her deep knowledge of herbal medicine. She wasn’t someone who simply healed with magic—she understood everything that life needed in order to return.
As I watched the skin that had once turned to stone regain its natural tone, I felt like I was witnessing the first light of dawn.
