Chapter 218: That Day, Him and Me (1)
-About three years ago
In the great mansion of the Morg family, whenever three or more people gathered, they told the story of the day.
Stories told through the mouths of the maids.
"Did you hear that?"
"I heard it."
"Does anyone else know the rumor?"
"That you went into the depths of the Black and Red Mountain not long ago."
"Yes, with a party of mages from Morg and swordsmen from Baskerville."
"And you said it was to rescue Lady Camus?"
"Well, she made it back safe and sound."
"But why didn't Ms. Camus come out of her room?"
"She must have been scared, after the horrors of that day."
However, one of the maids who had gone out to do the expedition's errands that day has a new testimony.
"...I heard it was for a different reason."
Why Camus, after returning from the depths, locked herself in her room and didn't come out for days.
"It's because of love."
"Love?"
"Yes. On that expedition, a man she's had a crush on for a long time went missing."
"What? You mean the one from Baskerville?"
"That's right."
"In the depths of the Black and Red Mountain... if he too had gone missing at night...."
"Yeah, he's probably dead. What else could it be? Besides, they say there was a huge monster there."
"It's definitely dead."
"I feel sorry for Ms. Camus."
The maids were worried about her in their own way.
"Ms. Camus was always so blunt, but she was always so good to us servants."
"She needs to eat something. She hasn't eaten in days."
"I don't think she's been sleeping, I keep hearing her crying."
"Well, she didn't seem to be crying today. Is she asleep?"
"No. I put my ear to the door and listened, and I could faintly hear her crying. She's probably too hoarse to cry out loud."
"Oh no. That's going to change her voice forever."
"I'm really, really worried."
"Is this all because of the man from Baskerville?"
"I don't know. Ms. Camus was so sweet, I wonder what she'll do later if she's already like this at her age."
"That's right, if I had Ms. Camus's face, body, and status, I wouldn't be tied down to a single man."
"Really, what kind of man was he for you to fall this hard for?"
"Whatever man he was, he's no match for our lady, eh, she'd better shake it off and get up, what's a man to... huck!?"
The three maids gathered in the corner of the corridor and chattered.
Just then.
The last maid to open her mouth, her face turned blue.
The maids turn their heads to see what's going on, and then they all turn the same color and shut up.
The maids' jaws dropped, because all of a sudden, a man was standing in front of them.
A man with a long red mustache.
He was Marquis Morg Adolf, exuding an air of authority over the maids.
The maids quickly bowed their heads.
"Im, sorry, Marquis, we were just worried about the young lady...."
"You're right, I didn't have any ulterior motives!"
"We were just upset...."
Normally, Adolf would have paid little attention to the maids.
But this time was different.
"Are these the same tongues that go around gossiping about the private lives of those they serve?"
Adolf snapped his fingers, and the tongues of the three maids darted out of their mouths in unison.
Aaah!
Their tongues were soon joined together at the tips.
"Uh-uh-uh-uh!"
"Ugh! Ugh!"
"Eeeeeee...."
As the tips of their tongues came together, the three maids were forced to stand in a circle, cheek to cheek.
Adolf clicked his tongue.
"The virtue of employees is to have a heavy mouth. You guys are busy using your worries as an excuse to spread gossip about your master. Its tongue is as light as a bluebird, so I tried giving it some of my weight."
The tips of the tongues, once stuck together, would remain so for about a month.
To survive, you'll have to lean on someone for water and mashed food.
Or have the tip of their tongues amputated.
Adolf then made his way through the corridors to Camus's room, deep within the manor.
Before knocking on the door, Adolf listened for a moment to hear what was going on inside.
Beyond the door, it was eerily silent.
But a man of Adolf's strength could hear.
.... .... .... ....
A sob, a faint, almost muffled sob.
It was like a wail of remorse from the grave, the wail of the dead, not yet dead, but buried alive.
"...Haaaa."
Adolf sighed heavily as he stood.
He hesitated a moment longer before knocking on the door.
Ding-ding-ding.
A light knock, in contrast to the heavy hand.
Adolf tried to keep his voice as soft as possible and opened it.
"Camus, it's your uncle."
He waited, but there was no answer.
With little choice, Adolf opened his mouth once more.
"I'm coming in."
This time there was no answer.
Understanding this as permission, Adolf slowly and very carefully opened the door.
...
Adolf stepped into the room and saw a bed in the center of the dimly lit room.
The blanket was sticking out like a tomb.
Adolf sat down at the head of the bed.
A small voice came out of the blankets.
"There is nothing wrong with the maids, please break the spell."
The words startled Adolf.
"You, your voice!"
Adolf carefully pulled back the blanket.
In the lightened darkness, he could see a grim-faced Camus lying there.
Adolf pulled back the blanket a little more.
It was as if he were removing the cloth covering a corpse.
"What's wrong with your voice! Huh?"
Adolf demanded, and Camus closed her eyes helplessly.
Then, in a fading voice, she answered.
"It happened to Rose, and then to Vikir, and it's all because of me."
Adolf was silent for a moment.
He was the type of person who couldn't say something that wasn't there, but that didn't stop him from saying, 'You're right.' Because you can't say, 'It's because of you.'
And knowing the nature of his uncle's character, Camus closes her eyes with a faint smile.
Anyone could see that the spark of life was dying.
Adolf was not a consoler, but his love for his nephew was great, so he tried to comfort her in this situation.
"You shouldn't do that, Camus. Rose and Vikir wouldn't want that, and you shouldn't give up like this. Don't you realize that the weight of your life is even heavier with their share added to it?"
It is the duty of the living to live up to the dead.
Adolf spoke sincerely at this common consolation.
...but?
"!"
Camus's closed eyes suddenly flashed open.
As if a spring had sprung, Camus sprang to her feet and looked at Adolf.
"Uncle, what did you say to me?"
"Eh, eh, It shouldn't be like that."
"Then!"
Camus scolds Adolf in a louder voice.
Adolf couldn't remember what he'd just said, so after a moment's thought, he said something similar.
"...Do we have to live up to the share of the dead?"
"Exactly!"
Camus's cloudy eyes sparkle with light once again.
Firewood was thrown on the dying embers once more.
Camus jumped out of bed.
Her body, which hadn't eaten or slept in a while, swayed once.
Adolf jumped to his feet and helped her up.
"Camus, what the hell is going on? What happened to you?"
In response to her uncle's concern, Camus smiled.
It was the same smile, full of energy, curiosity, and hope.
"The living have to live with the dead, don't they?"
"Huh?"
"That's what your uncle just told you, that you have to live up to the dead man's share, and that's why you shouldn't give up!"
"Uh-huh, that's right."
Adolf nodded quickly, hoping that his consolation had worked.
But Camus seemed to have come to a different conclusion than Adolf had expected.
"So if the living give back their share, the dead will come back to life, too, because they've gotten theirs!"
"Huh? Is that how it works?"
"Yes, because the total amount of the share is the same anyway!"
The heat radiating from Camus's eyes was now beginning to take on a slightly strange glow.
"That's right. The thermodynamic state function of life is the same. Magic is all about how we calculate them, and I suppose we could reverse the calculations and order a bit to get a different result, if we could access the negative dimension and pull the entropy from there... and replace the quotient from the positive dimension with the remainder in an equivalent exchange form..."
Hearing his nephew mutter, Adolf knew something was wrong.
"Camus, wait. What are you thinking...?"
But before Adolf could stop her, Camus slammed the door open and ran out.
"Food. Feed me!"
It took less than a minute for the maids, who had been keeping a close eye on Camus's behavior, to set the table.
The Morg's little lord began to eat.
It was such a surprise that head of the family Respane, who was in the middle of an important meeting dealing with the Red Fang Castle and the ruby mines, ran over to see the vassals.
Wah, wah, wah.
Camus ate her food like a madman.
Spoon and fork abandoned, she shoved food into her mouth until both cheeks were bursting.
Suddenly, something caught her eye.
It was a potato. It was a Morg-bred variety.
'You don't have anything like this at home, do you?'
Suddenly, Camus's eyes moistened.
The moisture in her body, now dried up and seemingly unable to come out, was once again escaping through her eyes.
She shoved the potatoes into her cheeks until they burst.
"... Smells like dirt. It's not working."
And she swallowed it whole.
Having consumed all the food on the table in one fell swoop, Camus called out to the maids.
"Give me more!"
More, please.
Respane, pleased that her daughter had begun to eat, brought out more food.
And Camus devoured them, too.
"More!"
As much as you want.
Raspane instructed her maids again.
This time, bring enough food for Camus to eat.
...and. Camus devoured all the food that was brought to her.
"More!"
...Any amount.
Respane set the food down, looking a little stern.
And Camus ate them.
She threw up, but she ate again.
She threw up, but she kept shoving them in her mouth.
"More!"
...Now it wasn't enough.
Respane tried to stop the gluttonous Camus, but she wouldn't listen.
"More! Give me more! I have to eat more, I have to reserve my strength... yuck!"
Camus ate and vomited, ate and vomited, ate and vomited, ate and vomited, over and over again.
With tears and madness in her young eyes, neither Respane nor Adolf could say anything.
Everyone was frozen in front of the table.
After several rounds of vomiting, when all the food on the table was in her stomach, Camus jumped to her feet.
She turned to her lord, Respane, her eyes shining.
"Give me Morg's military authority. Let me search the forest."
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