[V12C12] He Breathes Again

Isaac removed his vest and fastened a weapon belt over his shirt.

This was the secret behind his so-called “chantless storage magic.”

Though it probably didn’t classify as a talent, Isaac had always been good at hiding things under his clothes, ever since childhood.

That was how he delivered Prince Felix the books he wanted, while avoiding the watchful eyes of the adults.

Isaac fixed two daggers at the back of his waist.

Although Isaac was more skilled with a long sword, such a weapon was not suited for the narrow alleys expected of urban combat. And more importantly, a civilian carrying a long sword would look incredibly suspicious.

He also slipped throwing daggers into the hidden pockets of his boots and coat, and a pistol into his coat’s inner pocket. Once his preparations were complete, Isaac lifted his eyepatch.

As expected, his right eye still stung when exposed to light. Monica had removed the shadow clinging to his eye and restored its original blue color, but his vision had yet to fully recover.

(I’ll refrain from bringing the rifle…)

Enough practice might allow for a decent level of accuracy with one eye, but he did not have the time for that.

Isaac closed his right eye and faced the wall-mounted mirror.

He observed the deep scar that extended above his right eye. This gave him an intimidating face that could not smile properly.

There was no kind prince in the mirror. Only a simple man, about to engage in a desperate struggle against an overwhelming foe.

(This is me.)

Isaac covered his right eye and scar with the eyepatch again. Once he confirmed that his weapons were properly concealed, he ascended the staircase leading to the second floor.

As he climbed the stairs, the words of a certain ill-tempered secretary came to mind.

——Your loyalty, Walker, feels suffocatingly clingy.

——You just want to feel secure by pledging loyalty and serving someone. Isn’t that dependence, plain and simple?

Isaac could not retort these statements because they were true.

He did find solace in pledging loyalty and serving. First to Prince Felix, then to Monica. He turned his loved ones into a justification for his continued survival.

This was why he despaired when he did not find Felix in the mirror. This was why Monica’s memory loss felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him.

(No more miscalculations. No more mistakes.)

The behavioral issues pointed out by Clifford were a long-standing bad habit. They were not something that could be corrected overnight.

Either way, Isaac was not fighting out of loyalty or to redeem himself.

Then why? What was he fighting for?

The answer to that question was something Monica had taught him a few years back.

——You don’t need a reason to help a friend, Ike!

His dear master, the kind neighbor, his quirky acquaintances, and all the people he shared a meal with…

You didn’t need a reason to help those important to you.

＊　＊　＊

Monica watched absentmindedly as Karina used a carving knife to sculpt details into the backrest of a chair.

Earlier, Karina had asked Monica for permission to do this, since she had discovered a chip in the wooden chair.

Monica didn’t understand why Karina was asking her, but according to Karina, this house belonged to Monica, and everything in it was Monica’s.

This felt unreal to Monica, as if she was in a dream. After all, she was only allowed to have a few personal belongings.

She still remembered the time she requested paper, pen, and ink. Her uncle gave her a harsh scolding, asking if she wanted to end up like her father.

Ever since then, Monica stopped asking for things. By performing all the calculations in her head and memorizing the results, she no longer had any need for writing utensils.

(Maybe all of this is actually just a dream.)

Her shoulders and back didn’t hurt anymore, and everyone here was kind to her.

The fashionable girl, Lana, was very emotional and could often be seen crying or getting angry. Still, it was clear that she cared about Monica, as she always combined Monica’s hair as gently as possible.

The girl with the hair bun, Karina, was always lively. She seemed to be constantly moving her hands with a smile.

The big scary man was still big and scary, but maybe he wasn’t all that scary. He did go “meow” after all.

Interrupting Monica’s thoughts, Karina voiced a question while smoothing out the chair’s edges.

“Monica-chan, do you have any preference for the motif? Like a flower, bird, or animal?”

“Uh… um…”

When asked what she liked, Monica would say “perfect numbers,” but when asked about what motif she liked, she had to think about the answer.

However, something immediately came to mind, likely because she had seen it just last night.

“…Cats.”

“You like cats? Waha! Good to hear! I love cats too! Okay, I’ll make this part a cat and add a golden spiral pattern to the edges!”

The golden spiral. A spiral created by repeatedly removing the largest square from a rectangle with the golden ratio, then connecting the corners of each square. Monica’s heart tingled the wonderful combination of cats and the golden spiral.

Meanwhile, Karina retrieved a set of differently-sized carving knives from the pouch on her waist, using them to sculpt the chair’s backrest.

What started off as a round bump quickly turned into the shape of a cat. Despite being made of hard wood, the cat’s delicate curves gave it the illusion that it was soft to the touch.

(Knives are scary.)

Monica got terrified whenever her uncle held something sharp, because she was afraid it might be swung down on her at any moment.

However, she had a strange conviction that Karina would never swing a knife at her.

Karina was a genuine craftswoman, so she would never point her carving knives at another person.

Monica hugged her knees on top of the bed as she watched Karina work.

She had always liked watching people work. While listening to the rhythmic sound of scraping wood, Monica followed Karina’s hands as they transformed the chair into a work of art.

“You know, I never really cared about how the things I made were treated. I was present when taking orders because I needed to hear the details from the customers, but I never got to witness the actual sale.”

Even while speaking, Karina continued moving her hands at the same pace.

Life was being breathed into the wooden cat.

“I was happy just being able to make what I wanted to make. I thought that was enough. But then, when I gave you the wooden cat as a gift, you looked so happy… and that made me really happy too.”

Monica remembered the wooden cat hanging on the bag in her room. Apparently, Karina had made that too.

“Monica-chan, I haven’t known you for that long and we never really got a chance to hang out together. So once everything is settled, let’s go out and have some fun. Of course, President Colette is coming too! She knows so many chic shops. Every single one of them is just so fashionable. She’s a true connoisseur of fashion!”

Karina always made everything sound fun and happy.

To Monica, “going out” had always been a terrifying concept, but for some reason, it sounded strangely fun whenever Karina mentioned it.

(…This is such a happy dream.)

As Monica pondered the warm feeling swelling up in her chest, there was a knock at the door.

Monica had expected Lana, so she was surprised to see the big scary man entering. He usually only wore a shirt and vest, but now he was wearing an outdoors coat.

Karina paused her sculpting once she saw him.

“Walker-san, what’s up?”

“I’ll be heading out for a bit. But before that, please give this to Monica…”

As Monica was still frozen on the bed, the man placed something in front of her.

It was a book. Monica’s eyes were immediately drawn to the title.

Discerning Magical Disposition from Inherited Traits
By Benedict Raine

“Ah… Ahh, ah…”

The book that everyone had thrown into the flames.

None of them listened to her pleas to stop, so Monica made sure to burn all the fragmented numbers into her memories.

She turned the pages with trembling hands.

All the records her father left behind were there. They were untouched and unblemished.

“Ah… Ah… D-Daddy… Daddy…”

Monica wiped her eyes with her sleeves to prevent the tears from wetting the pages. Still, her tears refused to stop.

This was a forbidden book written by her executed father. Why did this man have it?

The big scary man lowered the corner of his uncovered left eye. Monica remembered that angle. She didn’t understand the meaning of that number, but she remembered it.

“I’ll get everything back.”

Monica did not know what he was referring to.

Meanwhile, the man bent down slightly and offered something to the confused Monica.

It was a pendant attached to a thin chain. There was a small peridot dangling at the end.

The pendant fell into Monica’s hands with a soft clink.

“I want you to remember me. Remember your delinquent friend Ike who hung out with you for a single night…”

Instead of a response, Monica began muttering the numbers that made up the big scary man, or rather, “Ike”. The angles of his slightly lowered eyebrows, his eyes, and his mouth.

She had no memory of “Ike” or the events he mentioned, yet the numbers that made up his face seemed strangely familiar for some reason.

In response to her muttering numbers, Isaac simply said, “I’ll be off,” and left the room.

Right before he disappeared from sight, Monica finally realized the reason.

(Oh, it’s the golden ratio.)

Though everything still felt unreal, that one thought surfaced in her head.

＊　＊　＊

As Isaac approached the front door, he heard Lana calling his name from behind.

Isaac turned around to see Lana observing his coat. She had probably realized his intentions.

“I’ll be heading out for a bit,” Isaac explained. “Make sure to lock up properly.”

Lana nodded and looked straight into Isaac’s eyes.

“Please make sure to come back safe, alright?”

“Of course.”

After saying it out loud, he voiced the words once again in his head.

He would come back. Of course, absolutely, without fail.

A short distance from Monica’s house, Isaac found a tall black-haired man standing in his path. It was Nero in human form.

Even at a time like this, Nero still wore a broad grin.

“Yo, Sparkles. I found something cool. Wanna see?”

Isaac thought he was like a cat bragging about catching a mouse.

Meanwhile, Nero pulled something out of his robe pocket and dangled it in front of Isaac with his right hand. The sight of it caused Isaac to flinch back in surprise.

A white lizard——none other than Wildianu, Isaac contracted spirit, who he had left behind to watch over his mansion in Erin.

“Wil, why are you here…!?”

“Found this guy collapsed near the port, so I picked him up,” Nero continued. “I’m amazing, aren’t I? Come on, praise me.”

Nero behaved just like a cat boasting about its achievements, even in his human form.

Isaac cupped his hands underneath the dangling Wildianu. The tiny creature dropped into his hands with a soft plop, then lifted his small head to look at Isaac.

“My apologies for disobeying orders, Master. I came because I sensed an anomaly in your mana… Judging by your appearance, it seems that something serious has happened.”

Wildianu’s feeble voice indicated that he was a bit weakened.

This was presumably due to the shadows of Gluttonous Zoe. Isaac’s mana had been constantly drained, which naturally affected the supply sent to his contracted spirit Wildianu to some extent.

“You managed to come all the way here by yourself?” Isaac asked.

“I am a water spirit, so crossing the sea is a simple matter.”

That made sense. Rather than traveling by land, Wildianu could simply swim north from Erin to reach Sazandol.

Contracted spirits were tied to their contractors by an invisible thread, so Isaac could sense Wildianu’s location if he concentrated on this connection.

However, Isaac believed that Wildianu was still watching over the mansion, so the thought never even occurred to him. This was furthered by his lack of composure after losing Felix’s face to Gluttonous Zoe.

“Sorry. I didn’t even notice you were here…” Isaac admitted.

“You forgot about me, didn’t you?”

“…”

Isaac fell silent, and the white lizard repeated his question with the emotionless face of a reptile.

“You forgot about me, didn’t you?”

“…Wait, are you mad at me?”

The white lizard crawled up Isaac’s arm with short, paddling motions, then nestled into the pocket of his coat.

When sulking in cat form, Nero often squeezed himself between shelves. It seemed that non-human entities tended to seek out confined spaces when sulking.

Isaac patted the silent Wildianu from above the pocket and apologized.

“Wil, I’m sorry. Or rather, please lend me your strength, Wildianu.”

The white lizard poked his head out from the pocket and looked up at Isaac.

“I have no reason to refuse your command, Master. What do you ask of me?”

“There is a certain wish I want to fulfill.”

In the past, Isaac’s wish was to etch the name of Felix Arc Ridill into history, like the stars shining in the night sky. He believed that for the sake of that one person, he could let go of everything else.

However, the current Isaac could no longer sacrifice everything.

Even so, this was his wish, no matter how greedy it might be.

“I want to save everyone important to me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Thank you, Wil.”

Isaac was not omnipotent. He did not have the power to turn the tables and assure his victory.

All he had were the scraps of information he had gathered to the best of his abilities.

What he needed was allies, and as many as possible.

“I’m glad you came, Wil. We can do a lot more now, and above all…”

Isaac picked up Wildianu from his pocket and placed him on his left shoulder. Then, he glanced sideways at his partner.

“I feel more like Isaac Walker when I’m with you.”

“I must apologize. I’m afraid I cannot comprehend what you mean by that…”

To the confused Wildianu, Isaac lifted the corner of his lips with a hint of pride.

“I finally feel like I’ve come back to life.”

The man standing here was no longer a fleeting ghost of obsession. He was the revived Isaac Walker.

As Isaac started to walk off, Wildianu asked, “May I say one thing, Master?”

“Yeah?”

“Ever since you formed the contract with me, you have always been Isaac Walker.”

Isaac burst into laughter and turned around to look at Nero.

“Nero, hear that? Isn’t my contracted spirit just the greatest?”

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