Chapter 99

Erika didn't seem particularly shaken by such an out-of-the-blue question.

"Why do you ask?"

"I wouldn’t exactly call it curiosity, but you’ve always denied that Harold is your fiancé, Erika. It made me wonder if there was someone else you actually liked."

"It is not like that. It is simply that our values and ways of thinking are fundamentally different."

"So that means you can’t be with him?"

"Yes."

It was the same response she always gave.

Lifa knew there was no point in pressing further or accusing her of lying. She had no evidence to overturn Erika’s words.

Erika was, by any objective measure, exceptional. However, through their time traveling together, Lifa had discovered that even she had certain vulnerabilities. Lifa felt a bit conflicted calling them "weaknesses," but in terms of being easy to exploit, Erika was undeniably fragile.

Erika was likely aware of this vulnerability herself. That was exactly why she took such care never to expose it. Her rigid, constant rejection of Harold was likely the result of that effort.

When it came to Harold, Erika’s emotions surfaced far too easily. Lifa surmised that Erika maintained her current attitude specifically to mask that fact.

Yet, the camouflage was far from perfect—at least, it was transparent enough to make Lifa doubt that Erika’s rejection was genuine. As for Rainer and Colette, who didn’t seem to notice at all... well, they were probably just pure-hearted, Lifa mused, brushing the thought aside.

"...This isn't necessarily meant to persuade you or anything, but will you listen to me for a bit?"

"If you only require a listener, I am happy to oblige."

"Thanks," Lifa said. She waited a few seconds before she began to speak. "I’ve always been an oddball. In my village, I was loathed even by my own family. I didn't have a place where I belonged. Well, I guess that’s natural when you do nothing but study and never work."

She spoke frankly about her own past, things she hadn't even told Harold.

"At first, I started studying because I wanted to change the world. I hated that people without magical talent were doomed to poverty. I thought that if science could help people who couldn't use magic naturally to compete with those who could, the world would... no, I wasn't thinking of anything that grand. I just wanted my family and my village to be wealthy."

Erika remained quiet, devotedly playing the role of the listener as she had promised.

Lifa found it easier to talk because Erika didn't offer pity or empty sympathy. Lifa wasn't looking to brag about her misfortunes; to her, her background wasn't a tragedy, but merely the consequences of her own choices. Erika seemed to sense that nuance.

"But those feelings changed at some point. I started wanting to spite the people in the village and the family members who had abandoned me for my science. I became stubborn. I couldn't back down, and when I hit a dead end, I did a lot of reckless things."

To a stranger, it might have sounded like a pathetic story—a young girl who knew nothing of reality, chasing a dream beyond her station out of pure spite. Even if someone told her that to her face, Lifa wouldn't have been able to argue.

"That was when I met him. He said nothing but irritating things, and my first impression of him was the worst. Well, the rumors didn't help, either."

If El hadn't been there to tell her about Harold, her first impression might have been slightly better. Then again, if she hadn't been told by El, she probably never would have asked Harold to act as her guard in the first place.

"...He didn't laugh at my efforts. Looking back, he probably had some ulterior motive, and it’s galling that I needed Justus’s help, but I was only able to move forward because Harold reached out his hand."

Lifa had a hunch that there was a cold calculation behind his actions. She might just be a tool Harold was using. One could even argue she had caused him trouble by taking Justus’s offer.

However, the reason she wanted to do something for Harold now wasn't out of a sense of debt or atonement. It was something much simpler.

It was because Harold—who was fighting in a solitude similar to her own, yet far harsher—had recognized her efforts. That alone had made her happy.

It might have been a one-sided sense of kinship, but for Lifa, it was reason enough to risk her life to help him. This feeling can probably only be understood by me, she thought with a bitter smile.

She had been working hard all alone for so long. She had spent countless nights crying, terrified that her efforts were self-complacent and wrong, and that they would never be recognized by anyone.

He had cast light into that darkness and illuminated the path. No one else could truly understand what a salvation that had been.

"...I was saved by Harold. No matter what his motives were, that fact remains unchanged."

And that was enough.

Lifa had been saved by Harold. Now, she wanted to reach out a helping hand to him. Even if it was impossible, even if it was a nuisance, she couldn't help herself.

"...You are truly trusted by Lord Harold, aren't you, Lifa?"

"Trusted, huh..."

Certainly, he placed a degree of trust in her combat abilities. Harold wouldn't easily fall behind regardless of the opponent, but since that sword was shaving away his very life, trusting him too much in that regard felt...

Wait, no. That’s not it. Erika just said I was trusted by Harold... why would she put it that way—

A sudden silence hung in the air. It was a razor-thin distinction.

Lifa didn't reach the conclusion through logic, but through raw intuition. She looked up with a start. Erika’s iron-clad expression had finally crumbled, her eyes wavering for just a fleeting second.

Their eyes met. Agitation surfaced in Erika’s gaze. Realizing she had been seen, Erika’s expression shifted into one of resignation.

Lifa’s thoughts finally caught up to her intuition. Ah, so that’s what it was, she realized.

The countless fragments scattered throughout their journey began to connect.

Why did Erika immediately conclude that Lifa was "trusted by Harold" upon hearing that story? It was because Erika assumed Lifa's presence was only permitted because Harold allowed it. To Erika, Harold’s judgment was absolute.

And although she hadn't put it into words, envy had seeped into her tone. Combined with her sudden agitation, the meaning was now unmistakable.

"...Phew."

Lifa exhaled deeply, breaking the silence. Erika said nothing.

After a short pause, Lifa began to speak, as if checking her answers against a key.

"I don't quite know why, but Harold is trying to distance himself from you. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"And that’s why you’re acting like you hate him. Because Harold wants you to hate him."

Erika closed her eyes as if enduring a sharp pain. She looked up at the night sky and spoke with a voice heavy with heart-rending emotion.

"The fact that I couldn't answer with an immediate 'no' says it all, doesn't it?"

It was a clear affirmation.

As Lifa suspected, Erika's stubborn attitude was merely an act to satisfy Harold's wishes. In truth, she cared for him so much that she was willing to play the villain he wanted her to be.

"You admitted it quite honestly, even though you could have made an excuse."

"Because such a thing would not work on you, Lifa."

It seemed Erika held her in reasonably high regard. Being told that made Lifa feel a bit sheepish, but now was not the time for bashfulness.

"Just to be clear, I’m not here because I’m 'trusted' by Harold. I forced my way along even after he threatened me to stay away."

From Harold's perspective, she was probably a nuisance, but Lifa convinced herself that since she had helped solve the miasma problem, her presence wasn't a waste.

"So, do you know why he distances himself from you more than necessary?" Lifa asked, regaining her composure.

"Because he believes that even if we were joined together, it would not be for each other’s benefit. However, as for what specifically he fears..."

Erika’s voice trailed off.

Lifa, however, had a leaden feeling in her gut. She had an idea of what he feared, and it was the one possibility she had hoped was wrong. Her heart grew heavy. This was nearly the worst-case scenario she had predicted.

If that was the case, what could she even do? What could she say? Various thoughts swirled busily in her head.

"...There’s just one more thing I want you to tell me."

"What is it?"

"What do you really think of Harold? I want to hear your true feelings."

It was a difficult question, perhaps one Erika never wanted to answer. But Lifa knew that unless this point was made clear, they couldn't move forward. Not Erika, not Lifa—and likely, not Harold.

"...I love Lord Harold. I have loved him ever since I was a child. Always."

Her voice sounded as if she were confessing a mortal sin.

The weight of that confession told Lifa exactly how much of a taboo it was for Erika to speak those words. It also revealed the sheer depth of her devotion.

When they had first met at the Sumeragi Mansion, Erika had told Lifa, "We both might have a hard time." At the time, Lifa thought she meant they were both victims of the trouble Harold caused.

But looking back, that gaze meant more. Erika had recognized Lifa as a kindred spirit—someone who cared for Harold and acted for his sake. Lifa hadn't known Erika well enough then to realize it. Not that knowing would have changed much.

In the end, as long as Harold's ultimate goal and methods remained a mystery, neither Lifa nor Erika could truly act.

Even so, Lifa felt the situation was fundamentally wrong. Harold was moving toward his own end, shaving away his life without a second thought, while Erika was suppressing her own heart just to respect his wishes.

Lifa knew that human relationships were usually for the people involved to settle, but at this rate, Erika would be left with a permanent, gaping wound when Harold inevitably died. Knowing that and doing nothing felt wrong—as a friend, and as a human being.

"Then you know, don't you? That Harold will do anything, no matter how reckless, to reach his goal."

"Yes. I know that all too well."

Erika had known him since they were children. She had seen it all.

And perhaps that was the problem. It seemed to Lifa that Erika regarded Harold as something absolute. Harold was undeniably brilliant, and if Erika had watched his accomplishments up close her whole life, it was only natural she felt that way. Her own intelligence only served to remind her how difficult his feats truly were.

But that was a dangerous path. No matter how superior he was, Harold was still just one man. He had limits.

To believe in every single one of his judgments and only act as he desired wasn't trust—it was blind faith.

"Harold is amazing, sure. He can do things ordinary people can't. But he’s human, just like us. That means he can make mistakes. He can fail."

"...Those are painful words to hear."

"I know you understand that. You're a logical person. It might sound like I'm overstepping, but I think it’s much more 'like' you to desperately search for a way to be useful so you can stop his recklessness, rather than just following his lead."

"I... I have no confidence."

Erika gave a self-deprecating smile. It didn't suit her. Lifa hated seeing her like this.

"Whether I can truly be of use to Lord Harold... I simply cannot find the confidence in that, no matter how hard I try."

The roles shifted, and this time, Erika began to tell her story. It was the story of her life, and a window into Harold’s past.

---

"I first met Lord Harold eight years ago, when I was ten."

Erika had first learned of Harold Stokes when they became betrothed for political reasons. Even as a child, she understood her duty. Though her feelings weren't positive, she had accepted it as an inevitability.

She told herself that if marrying Harold would improve the lives of her people, then as the daughter of the lord, it was her duty to go. Still, she remembered struggling to hide her dread at the thought of joining a family as notorious for their pure-bloodist views as House Stokes.

However, the fiancé who appeared out of nowhere brought with him a cure for the miasma rampant in the Sumeragi Territory. He only asked for the cost of materials; in reality, he had provided it for free.

Harold had insisted it was merely to put them in his debt, but House Sumeragi was already the subordinate party. There was no practical reason for him to go to such lengths. At that point, Erika’s opinion of him had soared.

"However, a certain incident occurred that caused me to feel a fatal sense of revulsion toward him."

"An incident?"

Erika hesitated, but then she continued. Lifa and the others understood Harold. Colette was even a direct witness to these events.

"At the time, a rumor was spreading through the Stokes Territory that Lord Harold had murdered a mansion servant and her daughter. I asked him if the rumor was true."

She still remembered praying it was a baseless lie. But Harold had shattered that hope.

"'I killed them because they got on my nerves,' 'It is my prerogative to let them live or die on a whim,' he told me. He even insulted them as an 'Inferior Species.'"

The anger and disappointment she felt then had been overwhelming. As a child, she hadn't known what to do with such intense emotions.

"But it was all a lie to make me believe the worst of him. In truth, he had personally ensured that the mother and daughter escaped the territory alive."

He had deceived his own parents, prepared an escape route, and provided a small fortune so they could start a new life. He had taken the infamy of a murderer upon himself just to ensure their safety, and he had carried that burden ever since.

"...That sounds exactly like something Harold would do."

"It does. And through a turn of events, I learned the truth."

Harold’s kindness, his strength, and his nobility. Once she understood the man behind the mask, it was all over for her.

"I see. That’s more than enough reason to fall for him."

"Yes. By the time I realized it, it was already too late."

At first, she had been too consumed by guilt to think of romance, but that incident had undoubtedly been the spark.

"He is so reckless. He never looks after himself. I decided I would do everything in my power to reduce his burden, even if only by a little."

She played the role he wanted her to play so he wouldn't have to worry about her. When he was badly injured, she trained in healing magic to save him. She studied etiquette, administration, and every field of knowledge she could find to keep pace with him. She honed her skills in attack magic, archery, and taijutsu so she wouldn't just be someone he had to protect.

"...But looking back, those were all passive choices."

If she hadn't wanted him to worry, she should have confronted him directly. She should have worked to build mutual trust and asked what he needed from her. If she had done that, maybe he wouldn't have had to suffer such terrible injuries.

No matter how much she improved herself, it was meaningless if Harold didn't "need" her. And she had known from the start that the chances of him asking for her help were nearly zero. By waiting for him to "need" her, she had effectively given up on reaching out herself.

'Watch over what he is trying to accomplish, support him, stay by his side, and become someone who can truly understand him.'

Those were the words her father had given her. She had tried to live by them, but she realized now she had failed utterly.

Was she watching over him? No, she was just watching him from a distance.

Was she supporting him? No.

Was she by his side when he suffered? He didn't want her there, so she stayed away.

Did she understand why he risked his life? She had no idea what he was thinking.

It was a pathetic showing. Saying "Harold didn't want it" was no excuse. Lifa had ignored Harold's wishes, forced her way into his life, and earned his trust. If Erika truly cared for him, shouldn't she have confronted him with her true feelings, regardless of the rejection?

The truth was, Erika lacked the courage. She was afraid of being hurt. Afraid of being pushed away. She had used his "wishes" as a shield to avoid taking that terrifying step forward.

She had been running away from the very beginning, clinging to the faint, uncertain hope that he might reach out to her someday.

"How pathetic..."

The regrets were endless. Even that time on the boat in Kablan, when she had taken his hand. If she had spoken her heart then, maybe things would be different. But she had been too timid.

"No matter how great a sinner you may be, I am prepared to accept it—or so my brother might say," she had told him, hiding behind a joke.

The difference between Erika and Lifa was the courage to be hurt. Lifa had it. Erika did not. Her love was only worth that much.

She couldn't find confidence because she had never actually done anything for his sake. All her hard work had been for her own satisfaction. It was meaningless.

And most of all, she loathed herself for breaking her vow. She had promised to keep the truth about Clara and Colette a secret until Harold was ready to share it, yet she had just spilled everything. Lifa’s words had made her realize her own foolishness so clearly that she had lost her grip on herself.

"Erika..."

Lifa tried to offer encouragement, but the words wouldn't come.

Erika felt her own shame deepening. The only thing she could do now was try to act like her usual self.

"I am sorry for venting such grievances. Please, Lifa, you should get some rest."

"But..."

"I will be fine. Truly."

They went back and forth a few more times, but eventually, Lifa gave in and retreated to her tent, looking back at Erika with a worried expression.

Left alone, Erika stared into the crackling campfire. For some reason, it didn't feel warm. Even when she added more branches to feed the flames, the cold remained.

Ah, so this is what it feels like when a heart breaks, she thought distantly.

"...I never had the right to stand by your side, did I?"

She finally said it out loud. The words she had swallowed a thousand times before sank deep into her soul, feeling more like the truth than anything she had ever known.

Tears spilled from her eyes. Only the trails on her cheeks felt warm. But that warmth felt like the love and affection she had nurtured for Harold for years, now leaking out of her and wasting away into the dirt. Terrified of the loss, Erika simply sat in the silence and cried until the sky began to turn white with dawn.