Inas didn’t even flinch when slapped. If anything, it was Nigel’s hand that hurt more.
“Nigel.”
“I said get out!”
Even after the outburst, Nigel’s fury continued to boil over. That impassive face, completely unfazed despite being hit, just made him angrier.
Kill him? Deny him? Hurt him and trample him into the ground? Against someone who, the moment there’s a problem, immediately tries to kill Nigel? Was that even possible? Inas felt like an impenetrable fortress—one that would never collapse.
Inas watched Nigel quietly with that same unchanging expression, then bowed slightly.
“Then I’ll take my leave, Nigel. Please rest well.”
“…….”
Nigel didn’t answer. After gazing at him in silence for a moment, Inas turned and left the room without another word. Left alone, Nigel’s vision was once again interrupted by a floating message window.
See? Inas Idenbach only ever brings you misery.
“Shut the hell up, you stalker freak.”
God or not, Nigel was sick of him. He cursed out Glarus and yanked the blanket over his head. He was trembling all over, the chill creeping in like he was about to come down with something.
Nigel finally pulled himself out of bed two days after returning from the temple. He’d suffered a brief fever, but compared to the time he’d been totally exposed to Inas’s power near the capital, the symptoms were mild.
Maybe he held back this time.
Whether he had or not wasn’t important. What mattered was that Inas had pointed a sword at Nigel. The moment he came to, Nigel glared at the new quest window that had appeared.
▷ QUEST
Etna Rude Montstein
Prepare for the resurrection of Etna Rude Montstein by January 20, Year 273.
Required Condition:
Using [False Revelation], inform Ruder Albicia Montstein of Etna’s resurrection window. The resurrection period can be set freely between January 1 and January 20. Must notify him at least one day in advance.
Reward:
The complete resurrection of Etna Rude Montstein.
Penalty for Failure:
Etna Rude Montstein will be resurrected as the Nightmare of Magnus.
Nigel didn’t know exactly what “Nightmare of Magnus” would entail, but there was no way it’d be normal. At best, he’d come back as some kind of monster. Still, it was a relief that he’d been given a deadline over two months away.
Nigel passed along a few revelations to the priests who visited the mansion. Things he remembered that didn’t require verification—disasters, sudden monster appearances during this period—stuff like that. The priests seemed reasonably satisfied and left.
Once they were gone, Nigel met privately with Ruder.
“Dad, I want to find some people.”
“People?”
“A kid named Kay, and a knight named Mikhail Schumacher.”
Nigel explained what he knew about Kay and Schumacher—their places of residence, their past whereabouts. Ruder listened intently, his expression serious.
Kay would be about eight years old now, which meant he wouldn’t be able to do much, even after returning to the past. Nigel wasn’t sure if Kay still had his memories, but it was worth meeting him at least once.
As for Schumacher, Nigel personally wanted to help him. Schumacher only went astray after the king who cherished him, Roderick, was killed—and his entire family died in a suspicious accident. But at this point in time, both King Roderick and his family should still be alive.
“Mikhail Schumacher?”
“Yes. With Kay, I just want to check in on what he’s doing… but if possible, I’d like to bring Mikhail Schumacher into the ducal household.”
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”
After a brief moment of thought, Ruder gave a nod of approval. Schumacher was destined to become the greatest knight in the kingdom, but he wasn’t irreplaceable. As far as Nigel knew, he wasn’t even on anyone’s radar yet.
“If it doesn’t work out, tell them I can heal His Majesty’s mistress.”
“…What did you say?”
“Countess Diaramin. She probably lost use of one leg in a carriage accident.”
“I did hear something about that, vaguely…”
Ruder looked visibly startled at how casually Nigel mentioned something so hard to know. Sure, Nigel had said he was receiving revelations from Glarus, but hearing about it and seeing it were two different things. Nigel just nodded nonchalantly.
“I can heal her. I have the power to heal others now. No matter the illness—even if it’s a lost limb. As long as they’re not dead.”
“…Others?”
“Yes. Only others.”
Seeing that Ruder had picked up on the weight in his voice, Nigel emphasized it again. Ruder let out a long sigh.
“Glarus is awfully thoughtless. If he was going to give you that kind of power, he could’ve at least given you a healthy body to go with it.”
Nigel gave a weak smile. He wasn’t wrong. If he was going to be the god’s herald, shouldn’t Glarus have boosted his Stats or something?
Then again, Nigel knew why the god didn’t bother. Glarus seemed to think Nigel would have a huge impact on Inas. From Nigel’s point of view, that was completely delusional—but maybe the god believed that watching Nigel fall apart would affect Inas somehow.
He’s more of a manipulative schemer than a god.
Cursing the bastard internally, Nigel hugged his father.
“I’m okay, Dad.”
“Nigel…”
“If I can use this to help other people who are suffering, that’s enough for me.”
Of course it wasn’t enough. He’d wanted to trade in this shitty, frail body more times than he could count.
But for Ruder, the heartfelt words from his sweet youngest son were moving enough. If Nigel were set to inherit the dukedom, soft-heartedness would be a liability—but as the family’s fragile “wounded finger,” it was better to leave behind a good impression.
“Still, Nigel… let’s keep this ability a secret for now.”
“Okay.”
Nigel blinked innocently. He acted like he didn’t know anything, but he agreed with Ruder—it was best to save it as a trump card.
The ability to cure any illness, to heal any injury—just imagine how coveted that would be. Especially if the person dying was a royal or noble from another country. There’d definitely be people who’d want to monopolize Nigel’s ability. Maybe even kill him to prevent it falling into someone else’s hands.
The Magnus Ducal House was powerful, but there was no need to add unnecessary danger. Just letting Ruder know was enough.
“And Dad—about the successor to the ducal house.”
“…Don’t tell me the god revealed that too?”
Ruder’s face briefly soured—clearly he hadn’t expected divine meddling to go that far. Remembering how Ruder’s faith score was practically zero, Nigel quickly shook his head.
“It’s not like that… Just wait until the New Year. We might get some good news.”
“Good news?”
“Yes. Good news. I don’t know for sure either. A revelation doesn’t mean I understand everything…”
Instead of blurting out anything about Etna’s resurrection, he decided to slowly lay the groundwork first. The idea of a dead man coming back still didn’t feel real.
“Alright. No need to push yourself. Revelation or not, you’re what matters most. Forget everything else and just rest for now.”
“Okay. But, um…”
Nigel trailed off and glanced around.
“What… what happened to Inas Idenbach?”
It felt ridiculous asking after he’d stormed off so furiously last time—but they lived under the same roof, and not seeing Inas’s face even once made him uneasy. Loving Inas was as natural to Nigel as a plant turning toward the sun. No matter how much he steeled his heart, old habits were hard to break.
“He’s training as a knight, for now. He’s quite the talent. He might just become the greatest swordsman in the kingdom one day.”
He already is, Nigel thought privately. Still, Ruder seemed pleased that Nigel was asking about Inas.
“You don’t need him in the knights, right?”
“No, not necessarily. You brought him in as your personal guard, after all. If it’s awkward between you, I’ll keep him training a bit longer and assign someone else for now.”
“Okay… got it.”
As Nigel mumbled his response, Ruder assumed it was just shyness and nodded.
In the end, it wasn’t like he could stay away from Inas forever. It wasn’t because he missed him or anything… but if Nigel wanted to meet Glarus’s impossible expectations, he couldn’t push Inas away.
That bastard Inas… was something to deal with later.
“Dad, I’m hungry.”
Smiling brightly like the late-born youngest he was, Nigel took Ruder’s hand. Ruder’s typically stern expression bloomed like spring.
Nigel leisurely enjoyed a meal with his father, then curled up on Ruder’s lap to read a book together.
At twelve years old, he was probably a bit old to be doing that. But with such a huge age gap between him and his older brother—who had never really been a typical child—Nigel probably seemed forever like a kid in comparison.
“Your Grace.”
“Oh, is it that late already?”
Ruder’s aide stepped in.
“Sorry, Nigel. I’ll finish reading to you next time.”
“I’m fine. Good luck today, Dad.”
“Thanks.”
With a gentle pat on Nigel’s head, Ruder left. Alone now, Nigel closed the unread book and sank into thought.
I need to find Hayes too.
This time, he needed to start laying the groundwork so Hayes wouldn’t trust Inas so easily.
As Nigel mulled over various things, he dozed off. It was two hours later when he finally woke up.
If I sit still, I just fall asleep.
He got tired just from eating—partly because he was always sick, but also because he didn’t move much and had zero stamina. Determined to stay awake, Nigel stood up, got dressed, and left the room. The knight standing nearby gave him a surprised look.
“Where are you going, young master?”
“A walk.”
“A walk?”
“Mhm.”
Nigel, who normally never left his room, heading out for a walk on his own? The knight looked thrilled. Nigel managed to shake him off and headed to the garden alone.
“Cold…”
A harsh wind whipped Nigel’s thick cloak around him. It was already mid-November—he must’ve passed out for longer than he thought. In the royal capital, it’d still be late autumn, but here in Magnus, the northernmost region of the continent, winter had already arrived.
Nigel wrapped his cloak tighter and looked around.
The Magnus Ducal House’s estate was massive. Founded back during Edelta’s sealing, the family had constantly renovated it for defense. Over time, the additions had transformed the mansion into something closer to a fortress—or even a castle.
As he walked through the bleak, utilitarian garden—designed more for fortification than beauty—his steps gradually carried him toward the knights’ quarters.
Just for a second. I’ll just check what Inas is up to.
It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, but Nigel’s heart pounded hard. After all, this was the first time he’d ever slapped and kicked someone out like that. Maybe hitting him had been too much.
His palms were sweaty. Honestly, he was scared. He didn’t know how Inas would react. But he couldn’t stop wondering what he was doing.
As Nigel moved closer, he froze when he heard the sounds of fighting.
