Chapter 65
At one time, he had searched all over the empire to find out whether his family was alive.
But the moment he realized the chances of seeing them again were slim, he gave up on everything.
He spent his days numb, unsure if he was even breathing—just killing time.
Then one day…
He heard someone had come from the Imperial Palace.
‘Maybe they’re here to punish me.’
Count Bellua didn’t feel any sense of crisis.
There was a time he believed it was only right to burn his life for the empire…
‘…But now, I’m tired.’
He didn’t want to think about anything anymore.
If the Crown Prince decided to punish him for withdrawing from the world, that was fine.
Maybe ending this exhausting life that way wouldn’t be so bad.
He closed his eyes and prepared to take one last breath when—
BANG!
“What was that sound?”
Count Bellua twitched.
“I’ll go check—”
Before the butler could finish, more loud crashes echoed across the estate.
The ground shook with sounds that didn’t belong in such a quiet territory.
For the first time in a long while, the Count sat up.
Even after years of seclusion, he was still once a commander responsible for countless soldiers.
He had no intention of hiding behind a servant.
He walked to the window and opened it.
The supply warehouse had collapsed, and something small and glowing was flying through the debris.
“Well, look at that—Lord Darius’s face is priceless right now.”
The butler, Mandel, chuckled at the flustered and panicked expression of the arrogant steward.
At the same time, he was amazed.
‘To think someone else in this world solves problems just as bluntly as my master once did.’
Count Bellua didn’t care whether Darius panicked, or the knights flailed, or how the people reacted.
“Master, where are you going?”
He said nothing and threw on a coat.
The sunlight stung his skin—it had been too long since he’d felt it.
That brightness was unfamiliar… yet it reminded him this was real.
Then he saw her.
A woman gently cuddling a small bird in her arms.
She had lavender hair tied loosely and a face he didn’t recognize—yet something about her felt deeply familiar.
[“Darling, I’m not going to save this child. I’m going to save the love between you and me.”]
[“So that the three of us can someday live peacefully together in this small corner of the world.”]
‘…Sara.’
The Count softly whispered the name of his long-lost wife.
The woman watching him had the same look in her eyes.
* * *
Meanwhile…
“This territory is autonomous under Count Bellua’s rule. Even the Imperial family cannot ignore my authority—”
“Then send a complaint to the capital. I’ll make sure it’s received.”
Of course, the only one who’d get punished would be him.
The steward trembled.
Even though Laura was smaller than him, he couldn’t bring himself to resist.
Because the little bird that had destroyed the warehouse was still circling her.
Every time Sirin cut through the air beside her, the steward flinched.
It hurt his pride being bullied by something so small—but what choice did he have?
The ruins of the smashed warehouse still stood behind him.
Laura turned her attention away from the cowardly steward and looked at the glowing system messages:
– Deaths from disease in Bellua territory are significantly reduced.
– Starvation numbers in Bellua territory drop.
– Loyalty to the Imperial family rises in Bellua territory.
– Successfully lured Count Bellua out of seclusion.
‘Oh?’
Another notification popped up that caught her eye:
– You have succeeded in changing the course of history.
– Calculating curse reduction based on your contribution.
– Curse of Forgetting reduced by 67%.
– Someone’s memory fully returns.
Laura gently cupped Sirin in her hand and looked up.
The gates to the Count’s mansion—once tightly shut—were now open.
“…”
A rugged but clearly once-powerful man stood at the entrance, supported by his butler.
Even from a distance, his gaze was sharp and clear.
No one told her, but Laura instinctively understood.
‘So… you’re Count Bellua.’
* * *
For the first time in over a decade, the Count’s gates had opened.
As he appeared, the steward, Darius, rushed out in a panic, trying to step between Laura’s group and the Count.
“You don’t need to get involved in this, my lord! Give me some time and I’ll handle these rude intruders—”
“Darius.”
The Count’s voice—once assumed to be weak—was low and commanding.
Darius stiffened.
“Y-yes, Count?”
“Did you or did you not hoard the aid supplies from the Imperial Palace?”
“That’s…”
“Answer the question.”
“I was only delaying distribution to avoid causing panic in the territory, sir.”
“Then these people simply did the job you failed to do. Shouldn’t we host them in our estate and thank them properly?”
It was a reasonable argument—ignoring the fact that Darius had actually used the supplies to line his own pockets.
Of course, he couldn’t admit that.
“Yes… Your reasoning is correct, but…”
He shot Laura’s group a glare behind the Count’s back.
‘This is why outsiders should never be allowed in.’
If they had just been regular nobles, maybe he could’ve blocked them.
But not royalty. He couldn’t stop that.
His only option now was to clean up the situation.
If he could kick them out quickly, the Count would lose interest and everything would return to normal.
And he would go back to ruling his little kingdom in peace.
So he had to convince the Count gently—and make his own actions seem loyal.
He cleared his throat.
“But the estate and your mansion aren’t really suited to host royal guests right now…”
“That’s not true, sir!”
The butler suddenly jumped in.
He wasn’t about to let the people who had restored his master just walk away.
“Every room is clean and ready for guests. Please reconsider.”
The Count looked between the two men.
Then gave his decision quietly.
“…We can’t just turn away guests who’ve come so far. Let’s give them rooms for the night.”
“Yes, my lord!”
* * *
The next morning, the butler was beaming.
For the first time in 18 years, the Count sat at the dining table with guests.
“Please, have a seat.”
He gestured to the table.
Asel, as the highest-ranking guest, was given a formal greeting.
But the Count’s gaze lingered on Laura.
“May I ask your name, young lady?”
“I’m Laura of House Lewaze, the eldest daughter.”
“Lewaze…”
The Count frowned as if he’d heard something unpleasant.
At that moment, Asel stepped slightly in front of her, protective.
“And she is also my fiancée. I expect her to be treated with respect.”
Only then did the Count realize how rude his expression had been.
“Of course.”
But the tension lingered. The name “Lewaze” clearly stirred unpleasant memories.
Still, something didn’t sit right.
The girl looked nothing like the Marquess of Lewaze.
The butler leaned in to whisper something to him.
“There are rumors she’s not the Marquess’s real daughter, but adopted. It’s said she showed talent as a spirit summoner, so he added her to the family.”
“Adopted?”
The Count’s expression softened.
Just knowing she didn’t share the Marquess’s blood eased his discomfort.
Then he remembered…
The wind spirit that followed her.
In this era, spirit summoners were rare.
The moment he saw that translucent bird, he had known it was a spirit.
His wife had been a spirit summoner too.
He knew a bit about them—how rare they were now, with only one known bloodline surviving.
[“In other words, all current spirit summoners are distant relatives of mine.”]
He looked at Laura again.
Her sharp eyes, wavy hair, and the way she curled her pinky finger slightly when she smiled…
The more he looked, the more she resembled his wife.
And come to think of it…
If his lost daughter were alive, she’d be just about her age.
