Episode 50. All Preparations Complete
Curly blond hair and upturned golden eyes.
Groovy stood in the middle of the portal, staring up at the massive entrance.
“Can I pour mana into this?”
“Yes. Can you?”
Dylan dismounted and looked at the group in the distance, afraid of disturbing the boy.
“Are you worried?”
Groovy didn’t respond to Dylan’s voice.
Perhaps due to the environment, he wasn’t very good at coherent speech, but he always answered questions. He seemed overwhelmed by this unprecedented sight.
“I saw it in prison and in the conference room, but with that much power, you can easily activate the portal. You don’t have to worry.”
“Really?”
The boy’s eyebrows furrowed, his double eyelids darkened, and his beautiful eyes came to life.
“Of course. Do you think I brought you here alone for no reason?”
At Gerard's voice, the boy quickly lowered his head and turned toward him.
Dylan observed the boy.
His behavior was so natural, it was hard to believe he'd been locked in a filthy prison not long ago.
He seemed to accept even a cursory explanation, as if he were naturally intelligent. He was also perceptive, so Dylan didn't mind following him around all day.
One night, it wasn't until nightfall that he realized Groovy had been following him.
'If you hadn't gotten involved with His Majesty the Emperor, I'd like to teach you some things.'
Watching, Gerard dismounted and approached Groovy.
"Don't think too hard about it. Just place your hand over there and push your mana in."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Groovy exhaled deeply and turned to approach the portal.
Then he spotted a woman staring at him from the direction Gerard had come from.
The woman, dressed entirely in white, glared at Groovy with a visibly nervous expression.
She had been close by when they set off and had been staring at him the entire time.
When Dylan explained to him that she was the Emperor's mistress, Lyone, Groovy greeted her politely without a trace of displeasure. He had no qualms about greeting his mistress.
Born in the imperial dungeons, he had never had any pride.
In a corner of the dungeon was a bone mound filled with the corpses of the dead, and his mother, whom he had never even seen, was among them.
Groovy would often sit beside her and chat. He wondered what the outside world would be like, what the people there would be like, and how long he would have to live like this.
Compared to then, every step he took felt like walking into heaven, so he didn't really care about the Emperor's mistress staring at him.
He was the only one in the prison who didn't die because he could use mana, and he survived by eating animals that others couldn't eat.
How fortunate that his last meal wasn't a cockroach.
And now, he was fortunate enough to see the outside world and even eat imperial cuisine.
Honestly, even if he died right now from misusing my mana, he wouldn't feel wronged.
"Then let's begin."
Groovy shouted, placing his hand on a small, child-sized stone connected to the portal. He placed his hand on the palm-shaped indentation and slowly began to draw up his mana.
"Huh? It's opening!"
Someone shouted before he'd even properly begun.
Groovy tried to ignore his surroundings and focused even harder on his mana.
"Everyone, get through! We should be able to get through at least five times!"
He could hear the steady clatter of horse hooves and the clatter of military boots.
Before he passed through the portal, Dylan said,
"This portal has a mana storage feature. So just take your time and follow me."
Groovy didn't answer, trying to keep his mind sharp.
But he understood Dylan's meaning perfectly.
As he entered the portal, no more footsteps could be heard.
"Whew."
Groovy released the stone and opened his closed eyes.
"Ugh!"
The Emperor's mistress, whom he'd just seen, was now approaching.
Riding a white horse, she gazed at him with inscrutable eyes, as if holding back something.
"Strange person."
Curly blond hair and upturned golden eyes.
Groovy stood in the middle of the portal, staring up at the massive entrance.
“Can I pour mana into this?”
“Yes. Can you?”
Dylan dismounted and looked at the group in the distance, afraid of disturbing the boy.
“Are you worried?”
Groovy didn’t respond to Dylan’s voice.
Perhaps due to the environment, he wasn’t very good at coherent speech, but he always answered questions. He seemed overwhelmed by this unprecedented sight.
“I saw it in prison and in the conference room, but with that much power, you can easily activate the portal. You don’t have to worry.”
“Really?”
The boy’s eyebrows furrowed, his double eyelids darkened, and his beautiful eyes came to life.
“Of course. Do you think I brought you here alone for no reason?”
At Gerard's voice, the boy quickly lowered his head and turned toward him.
Dylan observed the boy.
His behavior was so natural, it was hard to believe he'd been locked in a filthy prison not long ago.
He seemed to accept even a cursory explanation, as if he were naturally intelligent. He was also perceptive, so Dylan didn't mind following him around all day.
One night, it wasn't until nightfall that he realized Groovy had been following him.
'If you hadn't gotten involved with His Majesty the Emperor, I'd like to teach you some things.'
Watching, Gerard dismounted and approached Groovy.
"Don't think too hard about it. Just place your hand over there and push your mana in."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Groovy exhaled deeply and turned to approach the portal.
Then he spotted a woman staring at him from the direction Gerard had come from.
The woman, dressed entirely in white, glared at Groovy with a visibly nervous expression.
She had been close by when they set off and had been staring at him the entire time.
When Dylan explained to him that she was the Emperor's mistress, Lyone, Groovy greeted her politely without a trace of displeasure. He had no qualms about greeting his mistress.
Born in the imperial dungeons, he had never had any pride.
In a corner of the dungeon was a bone mound filled with the corpses of the dead, and his mother, whom he had never even seen, was among them.
Groovy would often sit beside her and chat. He wondered what the outside world would be like, what the people there would be like, and how long he would have to live like this.
Compared to then, every step he took felt like walking into heaven, so he didn't really care about the Emperor's mistress staring at him.
He was the only one in the prison who didn't die because he could use mana, and he survived by eating animals that others couldn't eat.
How fortunate that his last meal wasn't a cockroach.
And now, he was fortunate enough to see the outside world and even eat imperial cuisine.
Honestly, even if he died right now from misusing my mana, he wouldn't feel wronged.
"Then let's begin."
Groovy shouted, placing his hand on a small, child-sized stone connected to the portal. He placed his hand on the palm-shaped indentation and slowly began to draw up his mana.
"Huh? It's opening!"
Someone shouted before he'd even properly begun.
Groovy tried to ignore his surroundings and focused even harder on his mana.
"Everyone, get through! We should be able to get through at least five times!"
He could hear the steady clatter of horse hooves and the clatter of military boots.
Before he passed through the portal, Dylan said,
"This portal has a mana storage feature. So just take your time and follow me."
Groovy didn't answer, trying to keep his mind sharp.
But he understood Dylan's meaning perfectly.
As he entered the portal, no more footsteps could be heard.
"Whew."
Groovy released the stone and opened his closed eyes.
"Ugh!"
The Emperor's mistress, whom he'd just seen, was now approaching.
Riding a white horse, she gazed at him with inscrutable eyes, as if holding back something.
"Strange person."
He quickly bent down to maintain his manners, waiting for her to say something.
Groovy quickly lowered his head, averting his gaze.
But no matter how long he waited, no voice came.
Groovy, anxious that the portal might close, carefully straightened his back.
“Um, is there something you want to say to me?”
The woman, who had been quietly looking down at him, spoke with thin lips.
“Close the portal.”
“...Huh?”
Groovy blinked his large eyes and asked again.
“What did you say?”
“I told you to close the portal.”
The woman looked into the portal, clutching the reins of the white horse.
“If you close it now, everyone inside will die or go mad. How about it? Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“No!”
Groovy answered without a moment’s hesitation and hurried towards the portal entrance.
“If you don’t come now, you probably won’t be able to move.”
He blurted out ambitiously, then, without hesitation, he plunged his hand into the mana barrier before turning back to speak to Lyone.
“What I just heard has already faded from my memory. So, I would like to never speak of this again.”
Groovy, who had been speaking with some force, disappeared into the portal without hesitation.
“...”
Left alone, Lyone looked at the portal still waiting for her, and burst out laughing.
“Yes. Since you call yourself a man, you should know how to get angry when you get angry.”
Lyone pulled the reins and kicked the white horse’s butt with her foot.
Then, one of the beautiful pair of white horses that the imperial family boasted galloped into the portal.
“Lady Bercheria!”
Timothy flung open the waiting room door, and Bercheria, who had been sitting on the chair, jumped up.
“Yes.”
“Can you come out right now? The priest has just arrived.”
“Yes.”
In her haste to get up, Bercheria moved forward without even noticing that her dress hem had been stepped on.
“Huh?”
As she was about to fall, Timothy reached out and grabbed Bercheria's shoulders.
"Ah."
Barely regaining her balance, Bercheria pushed back the veil that had fallen in front of her and stood upright.
"Thank you."
Bercheria's nervousness was evident.
"Um, if you need anything, can I help you?"
Timothy stood beside her, gently folding one arm.
Bercheria took a deep breath and linked arms with Timothy.
She couldn't describe the feeling of walking into the pre-arranged wedding hall, arm in arm with the white-haired Timothy.
"This feels just like seeing my daughter off at her wedding."
Bercheria smiled prettily at Timothy's words.
At those words, the tension from just a moment ago seemed to melt away.
She held onto Timothy's arm tightly, and he nodded with an encouraging smile.
As she walked through the short hallway and out the gate, the people who had been waiting for her erupted in cheers.
And across the arch, adorned with pink flowers like a bright spring, Lacrahan was waiting for her in a white suit.
“And the wedding ring?”
Lacrahan, who had been changing his clothes under the urging of his ladies, furrowed his brow and looked at Wyatt and the other knights.
“You didn’t prepare that, did you?”
Wyatt frowned arrogantly, and the knights beside him sighed.
“What on earth were you thinking, Grand Duke?”
“Were you going to ask her to be your wife without even putting on a wedding ring?”
Jeffrey emerged from the commotion and suddenly began to unbutton his shirt.
“I’ll give you my wedding ring first. You know I can’t wear it anyway, right?”
Jeffrey was about to be beheaded in battle when Lacrahan tripped him and narrowly avoided the enemy’s blade.
He survived, but he lost three fingers, and he would never be able to wear a wedding ring again.
“Hey, dude. No matter what. I’ll get in trouble with my sister-in-law. Instead, I’ll bend something into a ring shape. Just wait.”
“Then should I go to the kitchen?”
“Shouldn’t something come out of the storage room?”
Lacrahan looked at the noisy knights and buttoned up the rest of his white shirt.
“Yes.”
Lacrahan, wearing a shirt over his tight pants, put his hands in his pockets and turned around. Lacrahan put on his jacket and walked towards the desk. The bottom drawer of the desk, which he rarely touched. He opened the unusually thin drawer and took out a small box.
The knights who had been discussing noisily until a moment ago fell silent as if they had been waiting.
Lacrahan looked down at the box for a moment, then picked it up.
“What is it?”
All the knights gathered, their eyes fixed on the box in Lacrahan’s hand.
He opened the lid, revealing a ring set with a large diamond.
“Wow.”
“Wow.”
The knights gasped in amazement at the unprecedented size of the gem.
“Did you prepare it in advance?”
“No.”
Lacrahan slowly took out the ring and held it in his hand.
Even in the cold northern weather, the ring remained warm.
“It’s my mother’s.”
The day he returned from the war, he had seen his mother’s remains, who had committed suicide six months earlier.
Because Lacrahan was the only one in the family to conduct the funeral, she was left to dry up like a mummy in the castle’s basement, unable to be buried.
Lacrahan took only this ring from among the belongings he had gathered in front of the coffin.
He couldn’t leave it alone, for it had witnessed all his mother’s happy moments, all the moments when the family was together.
Lacrahan put the ring in his pocket and looked up.
“The preparations are complete.”
The men, huddled together, staring at Lacrahan alone, simultaneously smirked.
“There you are.”
“My goodness. How beautiful.”
“Is this really Bercheria? Is that guest really her?”
Those awaiting the wedding were still whispering at Bercheria’s appearance.
It had only been a few days, but the knights of Lacrahan had diligently toured the castle and village, explaining why Bercheria had vanished, unable to protect her.
She had been born into a family that had gone sabbatical, and had endured such brutal abuse that she had lost even the knowledge of being Bercheria.
They couldn’t go into detail, but they hadn’t made anything up.
Only then did the people finally understand that the weather goddess hadn’t abandoned them.
Half understood, half didn’t.
No matter how difficult her life had been, she couldn’t win back the hearts of those who had lost their families to drought and war in a short time.
Still, this was enough.
If only she hadn’t been jeered and hated by others for marrying.
“Bercheria.”
Lacrahan reached out to her, who appeared with Timothy's arm linked.
Groovy quickly lowered his head, averting his gaze.
But no matter how long he waited, no voice came.
Groovy, anxious that the portal might close, carefully straightened his back.
“Um, is there something you want to say to me?”
The woman, who had been quietly looking down at him, spoke with thin lips.
“Close the portal.”
“...Huh?”
Groovy blinked his large eyes and asked again.
“What did you say?”
“I told you to close the portal.”
The woman looked into the portal, clutching the reins of the white horse.
“If you close it now, everyone inside will die or go mad. How about it? Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“No!”
Groovy answered without a moment’s hesitation and hurried towards the portal entrance.
“If you don’t come now, you probably won’t be able to move.”
He blurted out ambitiously, then, without hesitation, he plunged his hand into the mana barrier before turning back to speak to Lyone.
“What I just heard has already faded from my memory. So, I would like to never speak of this again.”
Groovy, who had been speaking with some force, disappeared into the portal without hesitation.
“...”
Left alone, Lyone looked at the portal still waiting for her, and burst out laughing.
“Yes. Since you call yourself a man, you should know how to get angry when you get angry.”
Lyone pulled the reins and kicked the white horse’s butt with her foot.
Then, one of the beautiful pair of white horses that the imperial family boasted galloped into the portal.
***
“Lady Bercheria!”
Timothy flung open the waiting room door, and Bercheria, who had been sitting on the chair, jumped up.
“Yes.”
“Can you come out right now? The priest has just arrived.”
“Yes.”
In her haste to get up, Bercheria moved forward without even noticing that her dress hem had been stepped on.
“Huh?”
As she was about to fall, Timothy reached out and grabbed Bercheria's shoulders.
"Ah."
Barely regaining her balance, Bercheria pushed back the veil that had fallen in front of her and stood upright.
"Thank you."
Bercheria's nervousness was evident.
"Um, if you need anything, can I help you?"
Timothy stood beside her, gently folding one arm.
Bercheria took a deep breath and linked arms with Timothy.
She couldn't describe the feeling of walking into the pre-arranged wedding hall, arm in arm with the white-haired Timothy.
"This feels just like seeing my daughter off at her wedding."
Bercheria smiled prettily at Timothy's words.
At those words, the tension from just a moment ago seemed to melt away.
She held onto Timothy's arm tightly, and he nodded with an encouraging smile.
As she walked through the short hallway and out the gate, the people who had been waiting for her erupted in cheers.
And across the arch, adorned with pink flowers like a bright spring, Lacrahan was waiting for her in a white suit.
***
“And the wedding ring?”
Lacrahan, who had been changing his clothes under the urging of his ladies, furrowed his brow and looked at Wyatt and the other knights.
“You didn’t prepare that, did you?”
Wyatt frowned arrogantly, and the knights beside him sighed.
“What on earth were you thinking, Grand Duke?”
“Were you going to ask her to be your wife without even putting on a wedding ring?”
Jeffrey emerged from the commotion and suddenly began to unbutton his shirt.
“I’ll give you my wedding ring first. You know I can’t wear it anyway, right?”
Jeffrey was about to be beheaded in battle when Lacrahan tripped him and narrowly avoided the enemy’s blade.
He survived, but he lost three fingers, and he would never be able to wear a wedding ring again.
“Hey, dude. No matter what. I’ll get in trouble with my sister-in-law. Instead, I’ll bend something into a ring shape. Just wait.”
“Then should I go to the kitchen?”
“Shouldn’t something come out of the storage room?”
Lacrahan looked at the noisy knights and buttoned up the rest of his white shirt.
“Yes.”
Lacrahan, wearing a shirt over his tight pants, put his hands in his pockets and turned around. Lacrahan put on his jacket and walked towards the desk. The bottom drawer of the desk, which he rarely touched. He opened the unusually thin drawer and took out a small box.
The knights who had been discussing noisily until a moment ago fell silent as if they had been waiting.
Lacrahan looked down at the box for a moment, then picked it up.
“What is it?”
All the knights gathered, their eyes fixed on the box in Lacrahan’s hand.
He opened the lid, revealing a ring set with a large diamond.
“Wow.”
“Wow.”
The knights gasped in amazement at the unprecedented size of the gem.
“Did you prepare it in advance?”
“No.”
Lacrahan slowly took out the ring and held it in his hand.
Even in the cold northern weather, the ring remained warm.
“It’s my mother’s.”
The day he returned from the war, he had seen his mother’s remains, who had committed suicide six months earlier.
Because Lacrahan was the only one in the family to conduct the funeral, she was left to dry up like a mummy in the castle’s basement, unable to be buried.
Lacrahan took only this ring from among the belongings he had gathered in front of the coffin.
He couldn’t leave it alone, for it had witnessed all his mother’s happy moments, all the moments when the family was together.
Lacrahan put the ring in his pocket and looked up.
“The preparations are complete.”
The men, huddled together, staring at Lacrahan alone, simultaneously smirked.
“There you are.”
“My goodness. How beautiful.”
“Is this really Bercheria? Is that guest really her?”
Those awaiting the wedding were still whispering at Bercheria’s appearance.
It had only been a few days, but the knights of Lacrahan had diligently toured the castle and village, explaining why Bercheria had vanished, unable to protect her.
She had been born into a family that had gone sabbatical, and had endured such brutal abuse that she had lost even the knowledge of being Bercheria.
They couldn’t go into detail, but they hadn’t made anything up.
Only then did the people finally understand that the weather goddess hadn’t abandoned them.
Half understood, half didn’t.
No matter how difficult her life had been, she couldn’t win back the hearts of those who had lost their families to drought and war in a short time.
Still, this was enough.
If only she hadn’t been jeered and hated by others for marrying.
“Bercheria.”
Lacrahan reached out to her, who appeared with Timothy's arm linked.
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