54 — Chapter 54

“Good grief…”

Lucas let out a sigh of exhaustion as he laid Elma’s limp body onto the bed.

Outside, the sun was gradually yielding its light to the shadows of dusk. They were in the guest room assigned to Elma and Irene.

“I’ve never had such a hard time carrying a single girl to her bed…”

Lucas grumbled wearily, giving the forehead of the peacefully sleeping Elma a light flick.

It had been about two hours since she collapsed.

After she fell, Lucas and the others had hurriedly checked her pulse and breathing, concluding she was likely just asleep—incidentally, Kevin, who was a frequent patient of doctors himself, was the one who could tell the difference between a loss of consciousness and mere sleep—but getting from there back to the manor had been a complete circus.

First, Kevin, believing he was the cause of her collapse, had practically shut down from the shock. He had crumpled on the spot, continuously apologizing to Elma, while Deborah wailed in grief beside him.

Irene, having witnessed this for the second time, managed to maintain a shred of composure, but her worry for her best friend was so great that she kept glancing back, nearly tripping over her own feet several times during the descent.

In the end, Lucas—the only one among them who remained truly calm—had arrived at the manor by carrying Elma on his back, hauling the bag full of Demon Moths, and shouting encouragement at the Frenzel siblings whenever they began reciting poems of lamentation.

The matter of the swamp where the moths were supposedly swarming remained untouched. They would have no choice but to focus on nursing Elma today and head back to the mountain tomorrow.

Incidentally, Elma, who had been soaking wet with seawater, had her sponge bath and clothing change handled by Irene and Deborah. However, the two girls had come charging out of the room with beet-red faces, shouting, “If we stay in there any longer, we’ll open a new door…!” Thus, Lucas, who had also finished changing, took over the duty of watching her.

“Causing such a stir even while sleeping. What do you plan to do, seducing everyone in sight?”

Despite being a man, Lucas—who was somehow coming to be regarded as Elma’s “guardian”—let out a snort.

Yet—it was true that the sight of the girl with her true face revealed and her long, lustrous hair spread across the pillow had a powerful appeal, even to someone like Lucas who was well-accustomed to beautiful women. Her small, pale face looked a little peaked.

Lucas frowned unconsciously.

“You can ride a whale and command Sirens, yet you’re taken down by the scent of common grass… What am I supposed to do with you?”

He was familiar with the existence of allergies and had seen how terrifying they could be, but Elma’s symptoms seemed slightly different. If anything, it was like she was intoxicated by incredibly strong liquor—exactly like when she had downed that distilled spirit and passed out that time. Her speech would slur, her thoughts would blur, she’d lose consciousness, and then she’d fall into a deep, heavy slumber.

“…Strange girl.”

The primary care physician that Kevin had hurriedly summoned had yet to arrive at the manor. Lucas suppressed his anxiety and impatience, softly chiding Elma in that manner.

Elma.

A mysterious girl.

Possessing logic-defying abilities and a beauty that seemed inhuman, she was a troublesome girl who charmed every person she met.

Yes, he would admit it.

Lucas couldn’t help but be drawn to this girl—a jack-in-the-box who was eccentric, surprisingly honest, yet always seemed to be spinning her wheels in a grand way.

To him, a man interested in the unknown, women were like books. He would reach out with a fluttering heart, drawn by a beautiful cover, the texture of the paper against his fingers, and a synopsis that promised an entertaining tale. He would flip the pages with excitement, wondering what her personality was like or what thoughts she held, but once he finished reading—once he understood the gist of her—a sense of boredom would inevitably wash over him.

But in Elma’s case, an unexpected side of her emerged with every turn of the page, and she refused to let go of his heart.

Right now, it was still the prologue. He could still turn back. Yet, he had a premonition that if he stepped just a little deeper, he might end up completely obsessed with this girl.

“…I wonder how a woman like you even comes to be?”

He asked the question while lifting a corner of his lip in a self-deprecating smirk.

No, he supposedly already knew the answer.

“Because she was raised in prison.”

Piecing together Elma’s stories so far, he could deduce that much. She was beautiful because she was the daughter of a stunning prostitute. She had a sense of justice because she was raised by a former Hero. She could take down magical beasts because she was trained by a Berserker, perform surgery because she was taught by a mad scientist, use brainwashing techniques due to the influence of a kidnapper, and read micro-expressions because a scammer taught her…

But no matter how much they educated her, could a normal girl truly acquire that level of ability?

‘This one still has a secret—’

It wasn’t a guess; it was a conviction.

Perhaps, if he traveled to the prison itself, he might uncover that secret.

However—

‘A man who pries into a woman’s background just because she caught his interest… that’s a bit much, isn’t it?’

It was Lucas’s belief that if you were curious about someone’s past, you should hear it from their own lips.

Furthermore, it wasn’t as if Elma had committed some crime; on the contrary, she did nothing but save those around her. What kind of man would go around investigating a girl like that without a good reason?

‘Even in Waltzer Prison, not every inmate is a criminal with supernatural powers. The only ones who taught Elma all those things were the six people she mentioned. Since most of their specialties have already been put on display—surely, no more outlandish skills will pop up.’

In other contexts, people would call that a “flag.”

Lucas gave a small, private shrug before brushing the bangs away from the sleeping Elma’s forehead.

“…Hurry up and wake up.”

Her sleeping face was beautiful enough to watch forever, but it couldn’t compete with the charm of the girl who caused such ridiculous uproars when she was awake.

Besides, even though she was sturdy enough to go toe-to-toe with a tuna, her continued slumber made him feel a growing sense of unease. Was she really okay?

Just as Lucas leaned in toward Elma’s mouth to check her breathing—

—Knock, knock.

A voice called out from the other side of the door.

“Is this the room where Lady Elma is resting?”

The doctor had finally arrived.

Lucas felt a flicker of inexplicable agitation and hurriedly straightened up.

“Yes, that’s right.”

The man who opened the door and entered was a lanky youth wrapped in a white coat, wearing a pair of thick spectacles.

He looked to be about a decade older than Lucas.

He was remarkably young for a doctor, especially one serving as the primary care physician for a Margrave’s household.

As Lucas found himself staring intently, the man seemed to shrink back, looking down as if trying to hide his face behind his long bangs.

“Um… I will begin the examination immediately… Since there may be moments where her clothing needs to be loosened… if it’s not too much trouble…”

“Ah—yes, of course. My apologies.”

Lucas gave a start and nodded at the youth’s mumbled request.

It was the height of boorishness for a man to loiter during a young girl’s medical exam.

“I’ll go call one of her fellow maids, then.”

“No… it might take some time… so I don’t believe that’s necessary…”

Since he spoke so hesitantly, Lucas simply added, “Well then, I’ll be in the next room. Signal me when you’re finished.”

He cast one last lingering glance at the sleeping Elma and finally left the room.

“…”

Left alone, the youth let out a quiet, slow breath.

Then, he leisurely surveyed the room.

Beside the wide bed sat a small shelf.

Upon it were placed a water basin and towels, smelling salts, and a silver ornament meant to pray for recovery.

There was holy water, flowers from well-wishers, and woven charms filled with prayers.

By the window, brightly colored flowers had been arranged to cheer up the patient.

Everything had been prepared out of genuine concern for the fallen Elma.

After taking it all in, he spoke.

“Honestly.”

He muttered under his breath.

“Are the people here still using such primitive nursing methods?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached into the flower arrangement with a practiced hand, picked out the most fragrant blooms, and tossed them out the window.

Next, he sniffed the oils before throwing them away with an expressionless face.

He even sniffed the holy water but decided to leave that one alone.

In his bold movements, there wasn’t a trace of the timid air he had displayed just moments ago.

He gazed at the girl lying there with her eyes closed and lovingly stroked her hair.

“Seriously… I can’t wrap my head around nursing a daughter of the Demon Race by making her breathe in ‘holy’ scents.”

Then, he removed his thick glasses and pushed up the bangs that covered his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he asked a question.

“In the first place, normally, when a girl collapses, what she needs isn’t a magic spell—it’s an ope.”

That mischievous, boyish smile and those cunning eyes.

The true identity of the man who had arrived in the room as dusk approached was—

“—Don’t you agree, my dear Elma?”

It was Horst.