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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Declaration of War
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[The rising sun has swallowed the setting night
Ah, God. The night is wronged!
I have merely retreated a moment from the sun's light,
So why do you seek to take my life!
This humiliation, I shall never forget.
I will surely have my revenge!
So that the sun may shine no more!]
The voice was sweet, but the lyrics were far from it. They were a vow of revenge.
“Here, the sun signifies the Hero, and the night signifies the Black Mage.”
Teiti said, looking directly at me.
“The Hero, Heros Akion, killed the Black Mage. As a result, the Hero was cursed. A curse that would not allow the Akion family line to continue.”
So that was what “so that the sun may shine no more” meant. To kill the children of the House of Akion so that the Hero’s bloodline could not continue.
I understood that much.
But…
“But why only dis body?”
From what Ann and Anna had said, it seemed this body had older siblings. And it sounded like none of them were sick like this body was.
Why was only this body, only Daphne, afflicted by the curse?
“Are you referring to the other children of the House of Akion?”
“Wight. Thewe awe othews, so why is only dis body cuwsed?”
“Seluseu… no, Lady Daphne. You entered this body knowing nothing about it, I see.”
“Awe you mocking me?”
“I am not.”
When I showed a hint of temper, Teiti got down from his chair and knelt obediently. If he was going to submit so readily, he shouldn't have been so condescending in the first place. Elves, they just can’t hold their tongues.
“Including you, Lady Daphne, the Hero has four children. The first is Rache, the second is Bipera, and the third is Arius. All three were adopted. They did not inherit the Hero’s blood.”
“Aha. So you mean dis body is the Hewo’s only weal child?”
“That is correct.”
So that’s why the curse had fallen only upon this body.
Understanding this made me feel wronged all over again.
If my soul had to be transmigrated, couldn't it have been into a decent body? Why did I have to end up in the cursed, terminally ill body of a child?
“Dat damn Bwack Mage. If you’we gonna die, just die quietwy! Why leave behind a stupid cuwse?”
He was probably long dead, but I muttered curses at the Black Mage, wishing him a second death.
“Wait a minute.”
Then, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
“So, you’we saying dis body, I, am cuwsed because of the Hewo, and I’m going to die because of the Hewo?”
“That is correct.”
“And he hasn’t even come to visit me once?”
I remembered the Hero’s ice-cold eyes from the first day I woke up in this body. A gaze so frigid, it would have been considered harsh even toward a stranger.
No, how could he be like that when I was dying because of him? I couldn't understand it.
“The Hero dislikes you, Lady Daphne, so it can’t be helped.”
“What? Why?”
Why would he hate this body? The very body that was dying because of him?
“The Hero’s wife died while giving birth to you, Lady Daphne.”
“…”
The reason was so absurd that I was momentarily stunned.
“So, you’we saying dis body was just bown because it was told to be bown, got unluckiwy cuwsed, and is now dying, but they hate me af-tew deciding to have me on a whim?”
“Indeed. Humans are so selfish.”
“Ha?”
What an absolute bastard.
Rage flared up inside me.
“Elf.”
“Yes, Lady Daphne.”
“Open the door.”
I hopped down from the bed and lifted my chin high.
“Let’s go beat up that beastly Hewo.”
***
The Hero, Heros Akion, was facing a rather troublesome matter.
It was the regularly held council of vassals.
As someone born an illegitimate child of the Archducal House of Akion, who had wandered the streets before he could even hold a spoon, taken up a sword, and thrown himself into the world of mercenaries, such aristocratic duties were utterly disagreeable.
Furthermore, the vassals—in other words, the true-blooded nobles who had sworn loyalty and fealty to the Archducal House of Akion—did not recognize Heros as their true ‘master.’ After all, Heros was a nuisance born from the previous Archduke’s one-night mistake.
If Heros had not become the continent’s strongest Sword Master, if he had not received the title of Hero from the emperor, they would never have placed Heros Akion in the archducal seat, no matter the lack of an heir.
Thus, the vassals, who held Heros in low regard, tried to find fault with him at every quarterly council meeting, while Heros’s aides were busy defending him against their rebukes.
Today was no different.
“Therefore, I, Count Imperial, fail to understand Your Excellency’s decision. How can you open the storehouses to the peasants, even if the harvest was poor?”
“That’s right. Such relief efforts are the duty of the central government.”
“His Majesty has given no such order. I see no need for us to spend our own funds to save the peasants.”
Heros, seated at the head of the table, watched the speakers with his arms crossed. His expression was completely still. Only the scar running from his right forehead down to his cheek was strangely vivid.
Perhaps that was why? The vassals who had opposed Heros seemed slightly intimidated as they cautiously watched his reaction.
“What do you propose we do if all the people of the domain starve to death?”
Seizing the opening, Heros’s close aide, Marquis Geyron, spoke up.
“Half of the Archducal House of Akion’s territory is rugged mountain ranges. The little farmland we have has been dried up by drought, so it’s only natural that there are no crops. What choice do you think the people will make?”
Count Imperial, who had been momentarily hesitant, answered.
“They will go into the mountains and dig for roots to eat, I suppose.”
“The master of those mountains is a dragon. The moment they enter the mountains, they will be eaten.”
“Is that not also their fate?”
“Count!”
At such an outrageous remark, Marquis Geyron shot to his feet and shouted. Seizing the moment, Heros’s adjutant, Pollin, added his own words.
“They are the ones we must protect. It is the duty of a lord to protect his people, and is not ruling the domain well in itself an act of loyalty to His Majesty?”
“The adjutant will stand down. This is a matter for the vassals to discuss among themselves!”
“Aha. Then I shall excuse myself. Instead, I shall go about telling everyone how these vassals are being disloyal to His Majesty.”
“You there!”
The count ground his teeth at Pollin’s obviously provocative attitude.
“I understand that we must provide support to maintain the population of the domain. It is a logical conclusion. However, I am saying that it is premature. Did we not take in refugees who lost their homes in an earthquake just six months ago?”
Count Imperial turned his gaze toward Heros, who was still sitting expressionlessly.
“What I mean to say is that Your Excellency seems to be treating mere commoners with excessive generosity. Of course, we are aware that Your Excellency understands the lives of commoners well, but it is time you exercised some restraint.”
It was a remark intended to belittle Heros, whose mother was a commoner and who had been forced to spend his childhood on the streets.
Heros’s still eyebrows arched.
He uncrossed his arms, placed his right hand on the table, and began to tap his fingers on its surface.
“Not long ago.”
Tap, tap.
“Marquis Isaac’s son held a grand engagement ceremony.”
Tap, tap, tap.
“And on that day, the marquis’s castle burned to the ground. It was the work of the domain’s people, who could no longer contain their anger at the marquis’s extravagance.”
Crack! A sound split the air, and the tabletop where Heros’s fingertips had touched caved in.
The vassals, who knew Heros was a man of unparalleled strength but had not realized the extent of it, stared with wide eyes. Marquis Geyron put a hand to his forehead and shook his head.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Brushing the splinters from his fingers, Heros’s blue eyes flashed as he looked at Count Imperial.
“If you wish to live a long life with that head still on your shoulders, a reasonable compromise is necessary. As you said, mere commoners have little patience.”
“…”
Gulp.
The only sound was that of thick saliva being swallowed.
They were undoubtedly terrified by Heros’s presence.
And rightfully so. He had punched a hole through this thick table with his bare hands, using just one finger.
To be caught in that grasp would mean certain death.
The vassals, who valued their own necks, each avoided Heros’s gaze and lowered their heads.
“W-Well then, let us consider this matter settled…”
The scribe barely managed to mediate.
“A-And, the next item on the agenda… is regarding the long-vacant position of the Archduchess…”
Crack!
The table broke again.
*Ugh, what is with him!* Pollin scowled at Heros, but Heros paid him no mind, his hand still clenched as if he intended to shatter the entire table.
“Your Excellency, perhaps it would be best if you relaxed your hand…”
Just as Pollin was trying to stop Heros.
*Bang!*
The firmly shut doors of the council room burst open. And a very small creature began to patter in.
“Hm?”
Blonde hair and green eyes, noticeable even from a distance. A child with pale, bloodless skin.
“…Lady Daphne?”
The youngest child and the only blood heir of the House of Akion.
It was Daphne Akion.
“*Gasp, pant,* Lady Daphne! If you just barge in like that… eek!”
The elf who followed her quickly pressed himself against the wall, cautiously observing the room. It was understandable, as the room was filled with the vassals of the House of Akion, and right in the center sat Heros Akion.
Even the most courageous person would feel a little intimidated in such a situation.
However.
“It has been a while, O Hewo.”
The youngest child in the room.
And the frailest being.
Daphne Akion was not the least bit intimidated. In fact, she appeared more confident than usual.
“I have come to see you.”
Striding purposefully, Daphne approached the table and hopped onto it. She sat with her two small legs stretched out straight and looked down at Heros.
Just then.
“Lady Daphne!”
*Clang!*
It happened in an instant. Daphne had thrown a teacup at Heros.
Heros easily dodged it with a slight tilt of his head, but that wasn't what was important.
What was more important was that ‘that’ Daphne Akion, who had never been able to speak a proper word in front of Heros, had dared to defy him.
Heros’s eyes narrowed.
“You gave biwth to dis body on a whim.”
Daphne said as she slowly approached Heros.
“Because of you, dis body was cuwsed.”
Standing right in front of Heros, Daphne glared.
“And yet you fail to even act like a pwopew fathew. Isn’t that too much?”
A corner of Heros’s mouth tilted up.
“So, what is it you want to say? Are you trying to blame me now?”
“O Hewo. You awen’t even wowthy of my wesentment.”
“Then?”
“I have come to declawe waw.”
*Thwack!* Stomping on the end of a pen lying on the table and sending it flying, Daphne snatched it from the air and lunged toward Heros’s eyes.
“I will not die.”
*Clink!*
The smile was gone from Heros's face as he blocked the pen nib with an inkwell.
Daphne saw his distorted expression and let out a pleased, malicious smile.
“Because I will suwvive, and then I will kill you.”
