My Nerdy Neighbor Is the Master of the Magic Tower
Chapter 35
<The Fall of the Saintess? Near-Drowning Incident at the Holy Lake!>
<Divine Judgment Strikes the Relief Festival: Controversy Over the Saintess’s Qualification!>
To think the ‘Saintess’ nearly died falling into the lake of the Grand Temple. It seemed the public was pouring out negative evaluations filled with criticism and suspicion, suggesting that perhaps God had rejected her existence because she wasn’t the legitimate Saintess.
They had cheered and welcomed her just like the real thing, even if she was a fake. Seeing public opinion flip like a palm on a hand after a single accident, it was so absurd she couldn’t even feel angry.
Beneath the sensationalist titles were sentences like: ‘The Relief Festival Struck by Divine Wrath: Is It Okay to Continue?’
‘Divine wrath, huh.’
Was it really because I flipped the middle finger? Or was it because I usually had too many irreverent thoughts?
Cecilia, continuing her trivial musings, set the newspaper down with a thud. She curled her body, hugging her arms which still hadn’t lost their chill.
No. This wasn’t divine wrath, nor was it retribution for being a fake Saintess.
It was simply that someone had tried to kill her.
Her head cooled down chillingly, as if cold water had been poured over it.
In fact, she might have known it vaguely all along.
The fact that an impossibly small object shattered a sturdy glass window and the shards just happened to shower over her head; the fact that it was Sena who encountered a vicious thug capable of easily killing a person, and that it happened right before her eyes.
There was no way these were just coincidences or unavoidable accidents.
She had simply been escaping reality because she didn’t want to get entangled in something complicated.
But this latest accident was not at a level she could ignore.
‘Fine, I just have to face it now.’
Cecilia, her mind cold as if struck by icy water, lay back down.
“I want to rest for a bit.”
“I’ll call the doctor immediately—no, never mind. Just rest well and don’t worry about anything.”
She sent the Marquis and Knox away, pretending she needed stability.
Melanie, seeing her act deeply distressed after reading the article, also gave her space and left the room.
Only when she was completely alone did she laboriously lift her body, which felt as heavy as water-soaked cotton. Staggering with precarious steps, she finally reached the study connected to the bedroom.
Approaching the bookshelf immediately, she slumped down onto the floor. Then, she haphazardly pulled out the books from the bottom shelf.
Tucked away exactly where she had hidden it, the navy-colored diary lay inside the bookshelf.
Cecilia did not hesitate and opened the diary straight away.
The first page had only the owner’s name written on it; the second page explained the motivation for starting the diary; and the third page was one she was reading for the first time.
The date was approximately two years ago.
<I encountered an unexpected intruder while walking in the garden today. The cute intruder, with white fur, climbed onto my foot and curled up.
Holding the intruder who had walked in on its own feet, I looked around and found a small hole under a corner of the wall that I hadn’t noticed before.
When the intruder left, it went through there, so that hole must be the entry route.
For safety’s sake, it would be right to report it to Father immediately, but I’ve decided to keep my mouth shut for a while.
If I block the hole, I won’t be able to meet the cute intruder again.
I should double my prayer time today.
I hope my sincere confession reaches God. And I hope we can meet again.>
A cute intruder met in the garden.
‘No way.’
At the strangely familiar story, she quickly turned the page.
<God has granted my wish.
Nowadays, when I walk alone in the garden, the cat appears like magic and approaches me.
Seeing as it doesn’t show itself when I have a companion, it seems to have opened its heart only to me.
I’ve made my first friend!
I was so happy that I increased my solo walking time. Because of that, Melanie has started to get suspicious.
Moreover, when I asked for dried anchovies for today’s snack, she looked at me very strangely.
I’ve suddenly become a young lady who enjoys eating dried fish, but that’s okay.
As long as I can meet my new friend.>
<I gave my friend a necklace as a gift. It’s a necklace I asked a jeweler to engrave with a small leaf.
‘Lesty,’ meaning leaf.
That is the name I gave my friend.
I’m glad Lesty seems to like both the name and the gift.>
Meow—
Just then, Charles let out a small cry and rubbed against her leg.
Silently stroking Charles’s warm and soft back, Cecilia lowered her hand toward the necklace buried in the fur.
On the golden metal, a single small leaf was engraved.
“You weren’t Charles, you were Lesty.”
With a bitter smile, Cecilia turned the page again.
<People from the Grand Temple came to discuss the volunteer activities Weberdin periodically participates in. I wanted to go meet the Pope first this time, but I had to give up because I wasn’t given permission to go out.
While I was feeling gloomy, Knox bragged about the new clothes he received directly from the Pope. He said he had tea time with the Pope and received lots of praise.
For a moment, I wanted to shove dirt into his smiling mouth, but since a Saintess must keep her heart and body virtuous, I held it in.
If I ever give up the position of Saintess, it will probably be because of Knox.>
<I got scolded by Melanie today for eating too much Sachertorte. She said I can’t become a robust Saintess if I fill up on snacks instead of meals.
I don’t know why a Saintess has to be robust beyond just being healthy, but sometimes—no, often—I imagine a future version of myself who isn’t a Saintess.
Will I be able to go to the ‘Sweets’ shop myself then? Will I be able to compliment the pâtissier and eat as many freshly baked sweet desserts as I want?
Will I be able to step outside freely whenever I want, see His Holiness the Pope when I wish, and make lots of friends my own age?
But I know.
Imagining a future that will not come is a futile thing.>
Cecilia thought of the girl who must have lived isolated in this vast mansion, fulfilling her duties as a Saintess-to-be. She felt this stifled after being confined for only a few months; how suffocating must it have been for the original ‘Cecilia’ who lived like that her whole life?
She made a fleeting guess that perhaps those feelings were the reason she started this diary.
<I’ve been having strange dreams lately. Dreams where I, placed in different environments, have my life threatened for various reasons.
They are so vivid that on days I have such dreams, my emotions fluctuate so much that I can’t function in daily life.
Every time that happens, I run to the garden to meet Lesty; only by holding the warm living creature tightly can I be sure that this is reality.
If Lesty is here, won’t these nightmares stop?
I contemplated bringing him inside the mansion for a moment, but decided against it. A free friend would wither like a plucked flower if they were trapped here with me.
I briefly thought that I was jealous of Lesty, who can just hop over the wall and leave for the world outside.>
<The strange dreams are becoming more frequent. Yesterday I dreamed of a carriage accident, and today I dreamed of my stomach being pierced by someone’s sword.
The doctor said it’s a reflection of my usual inner anxiety and accumulated stress. So he told me to find a way to stabilize my mind and body.
But soaking in warm water, drinking heated milk, and eating Sachertorte were all useless.
With an exhausted heart, I secretly shed a few tears behind the garden, and before I knew it, Lesty approached and comforted me by rubbing his small head against my leg.
My only comfort is the little friend who comes to find me.>
……Dreams of dying.
Could this perhaps be related to the threats ‘Cecilia’ was currently facing?
The speed at which she read through the diary became faster and faster.
<My only friend, Lesty, is nowhere to be seen. Fear grows greater than loneliness.>
<In today’s dream, I fell down the stairs and died. Even though I wailed like a beast as my bones poked out and my legs were twisted, no one helped me.
No one.>
<Today I was poisoned. The sensation of my organs melting from my throat down was so vivid that I couldn’t eat a single meal all day.
How will I die next time? What kind of terrible pain will I feel? Just imagining it makes me too afraid to fall asleep.>
<Is it possible that these aren’t dreams? Can dreams be this vivid? Are these memories of accidents that happened in the past, and I’m repeating a cycle of dying and coming back to life? No, was even this life a dream to begin with?
I’m gradually losing the ability to distinguish which is reality.>
<The day before yesterday, yesterday, and today. I died again.
Those sons of bitches.>
The diary became uncontrollably urgent and dark.
And the moment she turned to the next page, a chill ran down her spine.
<Died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died, died.>
On the page where no date was written, the paper was filled with black, scrawled letters written so harshly that the paper was torn.
