A Sudden Invitation?
That was abrupt. It came completely out of nowhere. Justyn seemed to share the sentiment—his eyes narrowed sharply.
“Even now, I can feel a strong divine presence around you, Beastkin-nim. It’s clear proof that Thalassa has placed a powerful blessing upon you. It was also the decisive clue that helped me recognize your true identity…”
So that’s why his secret had been exposed. But something didn’t sit right. Ries wrinkled his nose.
A blessing?
He had no memory of receiving such a thing. Even when he thought back to the very first day his awareness had awakened in this world, there was nothing.
If he had to guess, it was likely tied to this body’s past. But even that was uncertain. After all, he’d suddenly taken over this cat’s body out of nowhere—there were no clues to draw from.
“Is that… a bad thing?”
“…Myak? Myauung. Aeng.”
And of course, Justyn was asking weird questions again. Classic master. Who else would say something like that in front of the High Priest?
Even if he didn’t know when he’d received it…
Still… isn’t a blessing supposed to be good?
Justyn was seriously a chronic worrier.
“…Too much of anything is never a good thing.”
And just like that, Ries’s small hope was dashed. His soft, white, triangle-shaped muzzle dropped open in pure disbelief.
…Are you serious?
Greus had a bitter smile on his face now, and a slow, creeping dread began to stir within Ries.
“A god’s excessive affection can be poison to mere mortals. Beastkin are no exception.”
“……Are you saying…”
Justyn’s skin had gone stark white. His mask and layers of clothing covered nearly all of him, but even the tiny bit of exposed skin was enough to see the color drain from his face.
No one in the room missed the meaning behind that expression.
“There’s nothing to fear, Duke. It’s called a blessing for a reason. Gods do not harm those they bless.”
Greus spoke gently, reassuringly. The anxiousness that had risen to Ries’s chin slowly began to recede.
“However… it’s absurd to place the gaze of a god and that of a mere creature on the same scale.”
And just like that, the tension returned. Ries slowly closed his gaping mouth and stared, dumbfounded.
This old man… really knows how to toy with people…
Was it a High Priest thing? That frustrating habit of talking in riddles? People in positions of power always seemed to have this same annoying way of speaking—cryptic and confusing.
“……”
Justyn looked like he was thinking the same thing. His expression was hard to read. Greus let out a soft sigh, as though making up his mind.
“Perhaps I should explain a bit more… Let me give you an example. Imagine a young girl living in the countryside—beloved by a god.”
His tone was calm and gentle, like a soft breeze. It felt like the beginning of an old folktale passed down by word of mouth. Ries leaned in, listening closely.
“She had someone she loved. The two were so devoted, they would’ve given their lives for each other. But soon after, tragedy struck. Her lover died suddenly in an accident.”
Greus took a sip of his cooled tea before continuing.
“The girl mourned for a long time. She grieved endlessly, cursed their tragic fate, resented the gods, and eventually… decided to follow her lover into death.”
His eyes, which had been cast downward, slowly rose. A timeless sorrow flickered in their depths.
“The god pitied her—but didn’t allow her to die. Instead, He tried to save her from her grief.”
“……”
“And so, He embraced her. To protect her from ever being crushed by sorrow again, He erased her lover from her memory. He stripped her of the emotion called love and wiped all traces of the man from existence.”
The mood in the room turned ice-cold. Ries flinched.
Still, he could guess how the story ended. The girl likely got back up and lived on. After all, there was no reason to mourn anymore.
“She no longer suffered… But she had lost someone she once loved more than anything. And she didn’t even know she’d lost him.”
A faint trace of bitterness touched Greus’s voice.
“That’s how divine love often works. They see the world in ways we never could.”
The girl in the story had lost the one she loved… But in the end, she regained her happiness.
So technically, it still aligned with the belief that a god never harms those they bless.
…But was that really okay?
Living a life without ever knowing you lost something so precious— Would the girl have wanted that?
There was no one who could answer. She had already forgotten everything.
“……”
Ries swallowed hard. His drooping tail swayed limply back and forth, perfectly mirroring his state of mind.
So basically…
…I’m in the same position, aren’t I?
A chill ran down his spine. It felt like the ground before him had suddenly turned into a field of thorns.
His small feline body couldn’t hide its fear—fur bristled, ears flattened, tail tucked low and trembling. Greus, noticing, offered comfort.
“That story was just an extreme example. Nothing is certain yet. All I can confirm is that a divine blessing resides within your body—I don’t know its nature.”
“…So that invitation from earlier… that’s what it was about.”
“Yes. If we can uncover the nature of that blessing, it may help.”
Two pairs of eyes turned to Ries. Their gazes were curious but unpressuring. The frantic pounding of his tiny heart slowly began to settle.
It would be okay.
The High Priest had said it himself—it was just an extreme case. There was no need to panic just yet.
More importantly—
“……”
He glanced up at his master. The unwavering calm in those deep red eyes grounded him.
Someone who worries more about me than I do myself.
If Ries had to sum up Justyn in one sentence, that would be it.
That man was still calm, so Ries’s panic cooled too. He even felt a strange certainty that everything really would be fine.
“Aewng.”
So he answered confidently. He wasn’t the type to chase adventure… but he couldn’t just sit back and ignore something eating away at him either.
Justyn understood immediately from that single mewl. He turned to Greus.
“Once the schedule’s confirmed, I’ll send someone.”
Short, clear, to the point. A direct promise to accept the invitation. Greus’s face lit up with satisfaction.
They exchanged a few more words, but the meeting soon wrapped up.
“I’ll begin preparations on my end. I look forward to welcoming you both to the temple.”
Leaving behind that polite farewell, Greus exited the office first.
Ries turned toward the window. The sky was still jet-black. But when he closed his eyes and focused, he could hear the soft patter of rain.
Quite a bit of time must’ve passed. He’d been so caught up in the shocking conversation, he hadn’t noticed a thing.
…Even now, he still felt like he wasn’t fully present. Questions kept floating around in his mind. A faint sense of wrongness continued to drift nearby, just out of reach.
A god…
Spoken of so often, yet still a far-off, unreachable being. To humans, a divine presence was both near and impossibly distant.
The more he thought about it, the stranger he felt. Like… maybe he had once, briefly, recognized such a being.
—I bless you.
Bzzt.
A hazy, static-laced voice brushed past his ear like fog. But the moment he became aware of it, the fragile sensation shattered and vanished before he could grasp it.
He blinked once—
“……?”
The swirling doubts vanished, leaving only a faint residue behind. Ries blinked, dazed.
…What was I just thinking about?
Everything reset. Like circling back to the start. To the High Priest’s proposal. To the story he’d told of that girl.
A life lived after losing something precious—without even realizing it was gone.
Ries curled one paw absentmindedly. One passing thought flitted through his mind—
…Could I have forgotten something, too?
***
After wrapping up his meeting with the Duke, Greus returned to his room—only to find an uninvited guest waiting for him.
“You stayed up just to see me?”
“……Yes. There’s something I need to ask.”
Holding a small lamp in her hands, Diana stood quietly at his door. The dim light from the lamp cast a pale glow over her colorless face.
“Come in. No sense in talking out here.”
It was already late. Far too late for conversation. But he couldn’t just leave the girl standing outside alone. Greus let her in.
Once they stepped into the light, her condition was worse than he expected. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was clenching her fists. Her lips were torn from biting them. Her face was gaunt and pale.
Before he could express concern, she spoke.
“What did you and the Duke talk about?”
“…That’s not something I can tell you. It concerns the Duke’s personal affairs.”
Direct. Her voice was tight with anxiety. Greus let out a short sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
I underestimated this.
Diana was far more obsessed with “curing Duke Laufe” than he’d realized.
