Chapter 21

Luciella answered lightly.

“And I told you before. I said I would let you experience new things.”

“…!”

“This is one of them too. Come on, get on.”

At that moment, Bael’s eyes wavered.

He stared at Luciella for a while, as though lost in thought, then eventually nodded.

He grabbed the saddle handle and swung one leg over.

The instant he tried to pull himself up with his arms, the horse lowered its back even further.

As though it had anticipated his next movement, timing it perfectly.

Bael settled himself onto the saddle.

“You steer through the flow of mana,” Luciella explained.

“…Can that really work?”

“You said you wanted to move however you wanted.”

Seeing the disbelief on his face, Luciella shrugged.

“There’s no rule saying you have to move with only your legs.”

“……”

Sitting high above the ground, Bael’s eyes suddenly lit up.

As though he had rediscovered a freedom he had long forgotten, he took a deep breath, his face filled with emotion.

“Shall we?”

he whispered softly to Estelle.

Shortly afterward, the sight that unfolded was astonishing.

It took less than a minute for horse and rider to adjust to one another.

For two years, Bael had been confined to his bed, practicing nothing but mana control.

The mana flowing from his hands was delicate and precise.

And the horse accepted and understood it with complete naturalness.

It understood the direction Bael wished to go, the speed he desired, where he felt comfortable and where he felt uneasy.

It understood everything.

Furthermore, it seemed to sense that Bael’s legs were not fully functional.

Whenever they gained speed, the horse subtly adjusted its movements.

As though balancing itself so its rider would not be jostled.

A wordless conversation flowed between horse and rider.

Moving as though they were one body, the two gradually picked up speed, until eventually they were running at a considerable pace.

Wow…

Luciella silently marveled as she watched.

Under the sunlight, Bael was truly radiant.

His silver hair gleamed strand by strand like threads woven with light, and in his eyes—which had once been cold and sharp—there now dwelled a vitality she had never seen before.

It was like the first burst of sunlight pouring through a window that had remained shut for years.

The light of life itself.

And he was smiling.

His neat lips naturally curved upward, revealing rows of even white teeth.

It wasn’t a smile forced out of politeness or dignity.

It was simply a smile born from joy.

So this was it.

The sight countless players had tried and failed to see.

Bael Bellaon smiling happily—

was dazzlingly beautiful.

* * *

It was nearly evening when Bael finally dismounted, breathing heavily.

Having successfully completed its mission, the horse happily buried its head in the feed trough.

Bael collapsed onto the grassy ground and steadied his breathing.

The intense, exhilarating sensation still seemed to course through his body.

“…I moved. I really did.”

He stretched both hands into the air.

The rough texture of the leather reins still lingered in his palms.

“I ran.”

He paused.

“And pretty fast, too.”

Luciella chuckled.

“I felt the wind.”

Bael murmured, and she smiled proudly.

“And?”

“I saw the sunset. I felt the vibrations of the earth. I smelled the grass and the warmth coming from the horse’s body, and…”

As he continued listing everything, he suddenly turned his head and looked at Luciella.

“And then?”

“……”

Instead of answering, Bael simply stared at her face.

And I heard your laughter.

he murmured inwardly.

It was true.

At the moment when dozens—hundreds—of sensations he had forgotten began to awaken while sitting atop the horse—

The most powerful stimulation had not been the wind.

Nor the sunset.

Nor the trembling earth.

Nor the smell of grass.

Nor the sweat running through his body.

Nor the warmth brushing against his skin.

It had been Luciella’s laughter beside his ear.

A voice as clear and light as water, rejoicing in his joy.

And then there had been that fleeting image when he looked down.

Her bright golden hair shining in the middle of the courtyard, dyed gold by the evening light.

Her pale green eyes, deepened by the sunset.

The graceful curve of her eyes.

And for some reason, he remembered the rich sweetness of the chocolate she had once gifted him—

The sweetness that had made it feel as though the entire world had opened before him the first time he tasted it.

She had said she would introduce him to new flavors.

So this…

was what she meant.

All of those things together had truly brought him back to life.

They made his heart beat.

And for the first time in a very long while—

he felt that being alive was wonderful.

* * *

After resting for a while, Bael climbed back onto the horse.

Leaving Cain and Aila by his side, Luciella headed toward the kitchen.

For the past few days, she had been so focused on the horse that she had left Bael’s meals to Jerome.

Jerome had never complained, but he clearly regretted not being able to personally observe Luciella’s cooking.

So today, she intended to make something special.

A dish she had tried several times based on her mother’s descriptions—

A food that supposedly existed in South Korea.

Waterfall Cheese Fondue Tteokbokki.

According to her mother, it was an addictive food more irresistible than anything else in the world.

And indeed, that description had proven true.

It was a dish focused more on taste than nutrition, but Bael had already recovered a great deal, so she thought it should be fine.

Crossing the garden toward the kitchen’s back entrance, Luciella suddenly stopped.

In the center of the courtyard, which was almost always empty, the kitchen staff stood lined up in a row.

In the middle stood Jerome, his head hanging low.

And opposite them stood a man coldly surveying the group.

Luciella narrowed her eyes.

The man appeared to be over fifty, with a neatly groomed beard covering his chin.

His broad shoulders and sturdy frame gave him a somewhat intimidating presence.

Even Jerome looked small standing before him.

Beneath his stern face, he wore a perfectly pressed chef’s uniform.

And pinned to his chest was a golden badge.

“…!”

It was the head chef.

Chef Renard.

I heard he went to the territory with the Duke. If he’s back…

Luciella swallowed nervously.

Then the Duke of Bellaon has returned.

“What a complete mess.”

Renard barked sharply as he glared at the staff.

“You brought someone into my kitchen without my permission?”

“……”

“And a little girl, at that? Jerome, do you have anything to say?”

“Well, if you could just see the child’s skills for yourself—”

Smack!

Renard’s hand sliced through the air, and Jerome’s head snapped violently to the side.

“How dare you talk back? Do you think this place belongs to you?”

“That’s not what I—!”

“Shut up!”

As he raised his hand again—

Something hard blocked his fist.

“Gah?!”

Renard jumped back, clutching his hand.

What had stopped his punch head-on was a wooden cutting board.

More precisely—

It was Luciella, holding the cutting board high above her head with both hands.

“That hurts, you brat!”

Roaring in anger, Renard turned around and glared down at her with wide eyes.

“Blonde hair… tiny little body…”

His gaze swept over her from head to toe, and his expression twisted in displeasure.

“So it’s you.”

“The little runt.”