Dear Eddert - Chapter 1 - Belle Reservoir

Chapter 1
Translator: effe

Year 175 of the Imperial Calendar, during the season of winter.

At the Sernotti Estate.

“There is no life left in her.”

In front of the woman’s body, Pope Benedict mumbled. The body was covered by clean linen as it lay quietly. At first glance, it looked as if she was only sleeping comfortably.

“Please save her.”

Someone grabbed Benedict’s collar, which was embroidered with gold thread. The man’s eyes fluttered darkly as he suppressed the pain and barely spoke.

“…”

Benedict stared at him for a moment, remembering the last time someone touched his body. He didn’t remember.

If anyone other than the Imperial Family were to touch him, they would be given the death penalty. No. The criminal would not even be given such a chance. There were only a handful of people who could meet him face to face.

“Isn’t it your duty to heal the Imperial Family?”

Blood flowed down from the large fists clenching his clothes. The man’s gaze was full of despair. They were the eyes of a person who had lost everything and were desperate.

So he wished he had done well before he lost it.

Benedict felt a silent urge to scrape away the ray of earnest anticipation in the man’s eyes.

“Isn’t that why… you came here…? To save her. Because Eden is a member of the Imperial Family…. so… please save her.”

It was like seeing a madman with completely extinguished embers in his arms. Benedict, who had been silent, finally opened his lips slowly.

“My healing power is limited. I can heal a person who is about to die, but if I can bring the dead back to life, then I would be a god.”

Shiiing.

The sharp blade of a well-forged sword was directed at Benedict’s neck. Then, in one fluid motion, a handful of Benedict’s silver hair that fell below his shoulder was cut silently.

Clatter.

It was such a nimble movement that even Benedict, who had eyes different from ordinary people, could not detect the man’s movements.

“If you’re not a god, it would mean that you could die at the hands of a human being.”

Seeing Benedict’s hair falling down like a fluttering silver thread, Walter whispered with his teeth clenched.

“Save her. No matter what. Or else you will die and never leave this place.”

Benedict chuckled.

“Do you really think it’s possible to kill me?”

As an archmage before becoming a pope, his most powerful ability was his healing powers. No matter how lethal an attack he could receive from Walter, there would be no problem if he healed himself.

That’s why Benedict’s family, which was just a family of mages who lived in a small village, had to live in captivity under the control of the Imperial Family for generations. The rulers of the Empire wanted to monopolize the abilities of the mages.

“See for yourself whether it is possible or not.”

Walter pointed the sword at him and let out a rough breath.

“Not a bad idea.”

Benedict smiled and took a step forward. The sharp blade reached his white, wrinkle-free neck.

Seeing the red blood flowing down the blade, Walter distorted his expression.

But then the open wound disappeared without a trace even before the blood flowing from the sword could reach the floor. There was not even a scar on the cut skin. The glimmer of hope that had been lost in Walter’s eyes flashed again and his sword, which was aimed at Benedict, disappeared inside the scabbard in an instant.

“Save her.”

Having seen the healing power of the Pope with his own eyes, he was ready to do anything to save Eden.

“I will do anything. Please… Please, save her.”

As he answered Walter’s pleas, Benedict’s voice was dry and ice cold.

“Did I not tell you? It is impossible to heal someone who has already breathed their last breath.”

To tell the truth, it was ‘close to impossible’, but Benedict kept silent about this. He wanted to make sure before trying anything. The man in front of him, Walter, looked at him in disbelief and bit his lip.

“Then what the hell are you doing here…?”

“Because I wanted to confirm the death of the Princess with my own eyes. Because that is also my duty as the Pope of the Empire.”

As soon as he had finished speaking, Benedict saw the despair flooding Walter’s eyes. Walter staggered, as if his knees had lost strength, and grabbed the bed on which the body was lying.

“…Eden.”

He murmured in a whisper, not even daring to touch the body. His large hand was trembling. He had the expression of a person who had lost even a single drop of hope.