* * *
Suddenly, it occurred to me that the reason Sean acted that way might be because of the guilt of being the sole survivor.
Instinctively, I felt it.
The reason my relationship with Sean seemed to be running in parallel lines, why he always seemed to slip away just when I thought I had reached him—
“You never know. There might be another reason why you were the only one who survived.”
It was because I had never properly apologized for saying those words.
Looking back, those words might have given certainty to the vague doubt Sean had always harbored.
Saying “you were the only one who survived” was the same as saying that everyone else had died.
If that was the case, then Sean had sensed the truth of his parents’ deaths long before he ever admitted it.
And yet, even after my careless words confirmed his worst fears, he never showed it.
Perhaps, deep down, he didn’t want to believe it.
That was probably why he cried in front of Arthur Sothes, demanding to know where his real parents were, why they hadn’t come for him.
When I reached that point in my thoughts, I felt an odd sense of displeasure.
Because of the words “real parents.”
Because Sean had shown his vulnerability before Arthur Sothes, not before me.
“I’ve properly apologized now, so things should be different.”
No matter what anyone said, I was the person closest to Sean.
“The closest person.”
To me, those words didn’t refer to some vague emotional distance.
They meant something literal, physical.
The person standing nearest to Sean had always been me, Raizen.
And to me, Sean was… my only one.
Because only he could save me.
“Then why?”
Why did things turn out like this?
Raizen blinked his stiff, aching eyes.
Tears had welled up instinctively, but they evaporated before they could fall.
“It’s okay.”
The boy reassured himself.
There was still time.
Sean wouldn’t be able to leave the Duchy of Pantheon until he came of age.
Just like a wound that heals with the right medicine and care, the gaping hole in their relationship—one created by his thoughtless words—could still be patched up.
If he treated it patiently and meticulously, just like tending to an injury…
“Yes. That will work.”
Without realizing it was all just his own delusion.
∗ ∗ ∗
Fortunately, Raizen didn’t ask why I ran away that day.
I had even prepared an excuse—that I was so overwhelmed with grief that I couldn’t stand it—but in the end, I didn’t bring it up either.
It was selfish of me, but I wanted to avoid discussing that day as much as possible.
“Still, it is a little unsettling how quiet he’s being.”
He acted as if nothing had happened.
The problem was that it felt like he was being considerate toward me.
Considerate?
What kind of nonsense—
At that moment, a loud pop filled the room.
“Ah…!”
By the time I snapped back to reality, the glass orb I had been purifying—the one filled with miasma—had shattered into countless pieces.
[Did you leave your mind in the garbage somewhere or what?]
A message window popped up right on cue, making me sigh.
[I’m sorry…]
It was already the third time.
The third time I had broken a glass orb while thinking about that day.
After the New Year’s banquet, I had started a new training regimen.
It involved purifying small amounts of miasma that Noah provided.
I had been worried that someone like the Duke of Pantheon might sense the miasma, but Noah assured me that he had taken every precaution.
The glass orbs Noah provided looked identical to the one Arthur Sothes had used to test me.
The difference was that Noah’s orbs were incredibly fragile.
If I failed to control my divine power even slightly, they would shatter instantly.
“Purification is the main goal, so why did he have to make the glass so weak…?”
I had complained about it before, but it was useless.
Noah insisted that divine power was still a form of strength—if I couldn’t control it properly, it would only backfire.
This was a way to train both precision and power at the same time, so I had no right to complain.
Still, the fact that I kept breaking them because I was distracted left me with no excuse.
[If you keep this up, I might just disable the soundproofing spell.]
[No! Please, anything but that!!]
If something exploded in my room, there was no way Mila wouldn’t notice!
I clasped my hands together and bowed toward the message window in a desperate plea.
[I will focus properly during training. So please, I beg you, don’t remove the soundproofing spell.]
I only found out after breaking the orb that Noah always cast a soundproofing spell on my room during training.
Not just that—he had apparently set up multiple layers of protection in case anything unexpected happened.
“That makes sense. If he had done this earlier, I wouldn’t have had to whisper under my blanket every time I talked to him.”
Of course, I understood the reasoning.
If I got used to whispering during training, I might accidentally slip up outside my room.
I was already lucky he had given me permission to type messages now.
‘Haa… what a life.’
[You’re daydreaming again, aren’t you?]
[No! Absolutely not!]
“Seriously, this god is like some kind of ghost.”
[I will focus. For real this time! Just give me one more chance…]
[Let’s call it a day.]
[…Okay.]
In the blink of an eye, the scattered glass shards vanished.
I let out a small sigh and slumped into my chair.
[I’m leaving now.]
[Yes, yes. Take care~!]
After sending my reply, I absentmindedly ran my fingers through my hair, pushing it back several times.
“This is really not the time for this.”
I needed to improve my control over divine power.
I needed to gather information—about Sean and everyone else around him.
Before, I hadn’t really cared much about what had happened before I transmigrated into this body.
To be honest, I assumed it had nothing to do with me.
But after talking with the duke and duchess, my perspective shifted.
The existence of the real Sean, which I had been avoiding, had suddenly lodged itself in my mind.
It wasn’t like I had to worry about being replaced—Noah had already assured me that the real Sean’s soul was never coming back.
“Thinking about that led to even more questions.”
Why did Sean’s face look exactly like my real one?
If he had been raised in the Marquis Kreveta’s household with all the love and care of his parents, why was his body in such terrible condition when I transmigrated into him?
And that wasn’t even all. I had to be mindful of Raizen’s emotions, prepare for whatever curse-related disaster was coming next, and keep track of all the changes in the novel’s storyline.
I couldn’t rely on just the original plot anymore.
“Maybe asking for the entire novel as my first quest reward wasn’t such a good idea.”
No, that wasn’t right.
There were still valuable insights to be gained from it.
The real problem was something else entirely—
Raizen kept interfering.
No matter how much I tried to focus, I always ended up thinking about him.
Even though there was no way he could have changed because of me.
Just then, a message window popped up.
[Hey.]
“What? Didn’t you say you were leaving?”
Then again, it wasn’t like he was really leaving.
He probably just stopped sending messages but was still watching me.
[Yes, what is it?]
I replied absentmindedly, and the response came almost immediately.
[Why haven’t you checked your favorability score yet?]
At those words, it felt like someone had struck the back of my head hard.
[Don’t tell me… you forgot? After all the trouble I went through to prepare it for you.]
Forgot?
‘No.’
I still remembered it vividly.
That damned -44.
[Imperial Year 302, October 28. Registered in the Raizen Affection Record. Affection level… -44.]
I even remembered writing that humiliating number in my notebook with my own hands.
‘Now that I think about it… when did I stop keeping track?’
For me, keeping records wasn’t just about organizing information—it was a way of reinforcing my memory.
A method to ensure I wouldn’t forget anything.
But at some point, I had stopped recording it.
I had also stopped checking Raizen’s affection level.
It wasn’t exactly that I had forgotten.
I just… didn’t feel the need to write it down anymore.
As for the affection level…
[Haha, affection level? I totally forgot! I mean, so much has been going on, right?]
[Did you really forget?]
It was a question that felt strangely significant.
Maybe Noah had asked just to confirm, but to me, it felt like there was another layer of meaning behind it.
[Yes! Haha! I do that sometimes. But since there hasn’t been a warning message, it’s not at the ‘intent to kill’ stage, right?]
[So, are you saying you won’t check it from now on either?]
[That’s… not it. I mean…]
[It’s not?]
He didn’t explicitly tell me to check, but his words were practically forcing me to do so.
[But why? Do I have to check it and report it to you or something?]
I knew this wasn’t the time to be saying such things.
But throwing out nonsense like this felt like the only way to dig myself out of this situation.
Unexpectedly, Noah didn’t reply for a long while.
[You don’t need to report it. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to remind you in case you’d forgotten.]
‘That’s a bit excessive for just a reminder.’
[Anyway, check it when you remember.]
That was the end of his message.
Somehow, it felt like an excuse.
I stared at the message window until it disappeared, then rubbed my face roughly with both hands.
‘Why haven’t I checked the affection level all this time?’
Until Noah asked, I hadn’t even realized it myself.
I wasn’t even aware that I wasn’t checking it.
But the answer came to me almost instantly.
‘I didn’t want to see it.’
“…Ha. This is driving me crazy.”
As if the affection level was such a big deal.
It was just a number that indicated my chances of survival in Raizen’s hands.
‘Yeah, that’s all it is.’
I let out a long sigh and opened the affection level window.
There was only one name registered, so the number immediately came into view.
[Raizen Miel Pantheon / Affection Level: -10]
-10.
It felt like a countdown.
* * *
