Silver Lining Yesterday - Chapter 7
Everyone pointed fingers and said it was impossible.
The monarchy’s history was far too grand for mere students, barely eighteen or nineteen, to bring down. In the end, they were cursed to be crushed under the guns and swords of the kingdom’s army.
As much as the monarchy oppressed the people, the cynics who never uttered a word of defiance disgusted her. She couldn’t bear to watch them strut around, acting like they were right, even as they were proven wrong.
So she worked herself to the bone.
She threw herself into the cause with every ounce of strength, as if her very bones were being ground down and her blood spewed out.
She overturned defeat after defeat, raising the flag of victory. She dreamed of the day when the blue flag of freedom would cover the land.
That once distant vague dream came closer until it was almost within reach.
“Please, change your mind now.”
A man, riding on the back of a fierce dragon, approached, his back against the ominous sunset.
“What am I lacking compared to Gemma Heidegger? In terms of expertise, I’m just as good as her! I’ve been more loyal to you than anyone else…!”
Even as she was bound, her thoughts remained strangely calm.
She had believed that Ernest would come and rescue her. Someone would come and put an end to this madness.
“I loved you, Jean Rohrbach. I’ll regret parting with you.”
She mocked the man with wounded eyes.
“Will you ever understand that I thought of you every lonely night?”
Right up to the very last moment, she never imagined how her fate would twist, or in what world she would wake up anew.
She had no foresight, yet she called herself a genius and the greatest wizard.
Jean gasped, opening her eyes narrowly.
Through the tears blurred the view, faint light flickered in her vision. She exhaled heavily, and a familiar hand gently brushed her eyes.
At that moment, Jean finally let go of her tension, rubbed her face against the large palm and whined softly.
“Idiot, fool… why did you take so long?”
Tangled mix of emotions surged up within her.
As she hid her face in his palm, she cried bitterly.
“You said you’d protect me… you said that if I fought without caring for myself, you’d take care of me… why didn’t you come? Why now?”
Since childhood, she had always been with Ernest.
Ernest, who was already a tall boy, had made a promise to the young Jean with their pinkies intertwined.
I would protect you.
I would protect the loved you, no matter the situation.
“What do we do now… the revolution is over, and the world has changed in 20 years, but now we…Ernest?”
Jean looked up at Ernest, who remained strangely silent.
If Ernest had been his usual gentle self, he would have comforted her long ago. It was unlike him to watch her cry in silence.
But the more Jean blinked, the more his red eyes became sharper.
She stared at the impossible red color.
Ernest’s eyes were supposed to be a soft green, like a newly sprouted sapling. Such a deep red should only have belonged to Gemma, a direct descendant of the Heidegger family.
Ernest’s face with Gemma’s eyes….it was utterly absurd.
At that moment, Jean’s heart dropped.
A chill ran down her spine, and her whole body stiffened.
The palms were calloused and rough, whereas Ernest’s hands, as a spellcaster, were smooth like a pianist’s.
Jean clenched her trembling jaw and watched the cold expression on the man’s face in silence.
The man, who had been staring at her with frozen eyes, turned his back without hesitation. His shadow faded into the distance, disappearing beyond the partially drawn canopy along with the faint light.
Jean exhaled a breath she had been holding in.
Nix.
Nix Heidegger.
The unfamiliar name finally crashed into her like a wave.
“…What do you think about the coming situation…?”
Faint voices drifted through the air. This was Nix’s captain’s quarters where she had always slept.
Jean shook her dazed head, barely managing to sit up. The memories of her on the verge of fainting now returned in pieces, stabbing at her heart painfully.
She covered her eyes, suppressing the whirlwind of negative emotions stirring within her.
Remaining calm and facing reality without being swayed by emotions was something she had practiced every day since deciding to join the revolution. No one else knew about the inner remnants of her struggles.
“…If the Western War drags on, Yeta won’t sit idly by…”
“…That’s not true. The eastern coast hasn’t even settled yet…”
The unfamiliar voices, the crackling sound of firewood burning in the hearth, and the wind howling outside the window. All the noises in her surroundings helped her distract the chaos inside.
Jean quickly wiped away the wetness on her cheek, regaining her sense of reality.
She instinctively lifted the corners of her mouth like a habit and moved to pull back the canopy when, unexpectedly, a familiar name pierced her ears.
“Still, wouldn’t Marshal Lipton handle it smoothly?”
Jean stared blankly at the point where the light from the hearth was spilling.
The soldiers around the desk were passionately debating with their backs to the darkness.
“The suppression will happen eventually. The problem is that the longer the war lasts, the more unstable the northern border becomes.”
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