So tired...
So sleepy...
Should I... sleep for a bit?
Veronica loved quiet.
The sense of security in Lynn's embrace made her involuntarily recall—events of the distant past.
“Veronica is a child gifted to the Cathedral by heaven.”
Since her childhood, such voices had never ceased ringing in her ears.
“You need to be the best.”
That was neither an expectation nor a demand.
It was simply a fact that everyone took for granted.
First place again? Isn't that only natural?
After all, you are Veronica Pera!
Like a wind-up doll, she stubbornly moved forward only toward victory.
Until...
“Hey, tiny, you lost.”
Lost?
Who were they talking about?
The six-year-old Veronica stood dazed in place, her delicate little face filled with confusion.
An unfamiliar word had entered her simple thoughts for the first time.
The noisy chatter around her interrupted her thoughts.
“Truly remarkable...”
“That level of mastery in fire magic...”
“That child... is actually more outstanding than the ‘Doll Saintess’?”
A burly, blonde man laughed heartily as he slapped her adoptive mother, the Bishop, on the shoulder, his face brimming with high spirits.
“See that, old woman?! Now that's a true Reinhardt!”
Six-year-old Veronica looked up, thinking she was secretly stealing a glance at her smug opponent in front of her.
The blonde boy raised his chin cockily, looking at her with a curious yet strangely familiar gaze.
“Pfft—”
He seemed... to be... snickering?
“What are you laughing at?” she asked in a babyish voice.
“I just thought of an old acquaintance.”
“An old acquaintance?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She's smug and narcissistic, a sarcastic little shorty, and most importantly—she's flat-chested.”
That did sound quite funny. Still young and unaware of the wickedness of the world, Veronica nodded in agreement.
But why did looking at her make him think of that person?
Could it be that I resemble the useless older sister he mentioned? At that thought, she puffed out her cheeks in slight displeasure.
However, she quickly threw that minor displeasure to the back of her mind.
Simply because a lively flutter in her chest compelled her to speak.
“Are you... like me?”
“Like you?”
“I mean... I mean...” She racked her brain, trying to find the words with her not-so-bright little mind.
“Someone who is perfect at everything, always ‘number one’.”
“...”
Why does she sound like some obsessive fanatic who would do anything for victory?
The little blonde boy gasped. Then, under Veronica's expectant gaze, he unhesitatingly delivered a triple denial.
“I don't know, I'm not, don't ask me.”
“Ugh...” Veronica pouted unhappily, her soft pink face puffing up like a pufferfish.
Since we aren't the same, why was he able to defeat me?
The naive Veronica pondered deeply, eventually giving up on this complex question.
Whatever! Since he beat her, then he would definitely be the champion of this competition... Wait, what?
The girl's eyes widened in shock.
For in the very next round of the match, the boy simply—failed to show up.
She watched as his opponent, who had been trembling in fear and prepared to just go through the motions, stood there utterly bewildered as the referee declared him the winner.
Only after the girl fought her way back through the losers' bracket to reclaim the championship did she snap out of her daze.
What followed was endless curiosity.
So, she cornered the lion-like, strong man from the spectator stands earlier, gesturing with her tiny hands as she spoke in her babyish voice.
“Excuse me... do you know where the boy who beat me earlier is? Blonde hair, about this tall...”
Grand Duke Reinhardt stroked his beard. “Oh, you mean Lynn?”
“That brat said early on that this competition was boring, so he slipped off to the garden. No idea what he's up to!”
After a hasty farewell, she jogged to the garden and ran into the blonde boy she had been thinking about.
He spoke in that same infuriating tone as before.
“Yo~ tiny shorty, what are you doing here?”
“Ugh... please don't say that. I'm not a tiny shorty. I'll grow taller in the future.”
“No, you won't,” the boy replied with absolute certainty. “You're destined to be a shorty in the future, so naturally, you're a tiny shorty now.”
Without dwelling on the boy's hurtful words, Veronica carefully formulated her question. “U-Um, why didn't you continue the competition?”
“You are stronger than me, so... you should be number one.”
“Not interested.”
“Eh...?”
The boy yawned and repeated, “I'm not interested.”
“I only do what I want to do. That's all.”
He asked in return, “But what about you? Spending so much time and effort just to go through the motions and beat up guys who can't even last a single blow?”
“Are you a wooden doll? Isn't it boring?”
B-Boring?
She seemed completely stumped by the question. Veronica tapped her lip.
“Looking at your expression, I can tell I spoke in vain...” Lynn sighed.
“Have you ever gone to play in town?”
“...Play?”
“Alright, for the sake of a certain shorty, I'll take you, this tiny shorty, to broaden your horizons.”
With the light behind him, he smiled and extended his hand to the girl.
“Want to go? Right now.”
“W-Wait... I still have a magic study session tonight...”
“That kind of thing doesn't matter at all~” Lynn interrupted impatiently. “You just need to tell me: do you want to go or not?”
Veronica stared blankly at the smiling boy.
As if possessed, she placed her small hand in his.
“...I do.”
The girl's murmur was extremely soft, as if it would disperse into the gentle evening breeze.
But the boy in front of her heard it clearly.
“That's the spirit! Hold on tight!”
Ignoring the girl's blushing cheeks, Lynn scooped her up, bypassed all kinds of restrictions in a flash, and scaled the high wall with practiced ease.
Buying candied fruits, catching goldfish, building sandcastles...
The events of that night had long since blurred with time. The boy's image had also undergone a massive change over the span of just a few years.
He became arrogant, absurd, and—
No longer resembled that back she had once admired.
But...
“As expected... I still don't want all of this to end...”
Gazing at the silent youth before her, Veronica smiled.
“At a time like this... you actually look like you did back then again.”
“...Run, Lynn.”
She pressed a seal into Lynn's hand. “Give this token... to Lisa later. The Cathedral will never make things difficult for you, I promise.”
“Staying alive is more important than anything.”
“Even if you want to avenge a woman like me, you'll have plenty of opportunities in the future, won't you?”
Lynn looked down at the seal in his palm. The small object still carried the lingering warmth of her fingertips, feeling like a hot piece of coal in this freezing cave. He remained silent for a long time.
Then, he nodded.
“...Alright, I promise you.”
“Really?”
“I swear on the honor of Reinhardt.”
He tucked the seal into his coat and stood up, his movements very gentle. Veronica watched as he turned and walked toward the entrance of the cave, his slender silhouette stretching long in the firelight. He paused for a moment at the narrow opening, turning his head slightly; half of his face was illuminated by the fire, while the other half was cast in shadow.
“I'm leaving.”
The cave fell completely dark, save for the campfire quietly crackling in the corner.
Clutching her silver sword, Veronica curled up on the pile of straw, listening to the footsteps outside gradually fade away. The sound grew softer and more distant, eventually swallowed by the howling wind and snow.
She closed her eyes, a barely perceptible curve forming at the corner of her lips.
“...Run, you idiot.”
Outside the cave, the wind and snow whipped icy sleet against Lynn's face.
He stopped after walking only about three hundred paces, standing behind a protruding ridge of ice and turning back to face the path he had come. The cave entrance behind him was no longer visible, swallowed by the snowstorm and night into a blurry gray shadow.
Lynn did not continue eastward.
There was only one thing he had not told Veronica.
Hours had already passed before she even woke up. And the battle between Alastor and the tusked wild boar had long since concluded.
That unsettling aura had already been rapidly approaching for a while.
On the distant snowy slope, a grayish-black figure was steadily drawing near.
Alastor's pace was leisurely, as if he were following an invisible thread.
That massive mountain of flesh had been forcibly compressed back into a human form, with that comical top hat sitting on his head—now missing half a corner. Clearly, his battle with the tusked wild boar had not been easy.
His gaze first fell upon the sealed cave entrance in the distance, but then shifted slightly, landing on Lynn's position.
Through the wind and snow, the corners of his mouth slowly curled upward.
“Oh?”
His voice carried over on the wind. “Impressive. You didn't run? After all the effort you went through to buy yourself those few hours?”
He clapped in admiration. “As expected of a Reinhardt. I thought my mission had failed and I would have to make do with taking a Saintess back to complete my task~”
Lynn remained silent.
Alastor stopped a hundred paces away. He tilted his head, his gaze bypassing Lynn to look at the area shrouded in wind and snow behind him, a hint of sentimentality in his tone.
“The Saintess probably thinks you've already run far away.” He sighed softly. “What a... repulsive spirit of self-sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?”
“There's no such thing.”
Alastor's relaxed expression suddenly froze.
Lynn spoke word by word, as if stating an indisputable fact.
“I am simply going to tear that disgusting face of yours to shreds right here.”
He raised the tip of his sword.
“That is all.
Rate on N.U.
