I Was Just Having Fun With The Time Limit - Chapter 130

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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About an hour ago.
The Coachman erupted in anger at someone who had come seeking him out.
“What are you saying! A promise to a client is paramount. In twenty years, I have never broken a single promise to my clients! I absolutely cannot do this! They are my passengers. No matter how noble a lord you may be, some things simply cannot be done.”
A man in a robe held out a leather pouch.
The leather pouch was filled with silver coins, and at a glance, it appeared to contain over a million Ludens.
“I had no idea the matter was so urgent.”
Thus the Coachman was replaced.
And thirty minutes later.
Isabel sat beside the replacement Coachman.
Isabel gazed at the Coachman with a bright smile.
The Coachman cleared his throat and asked.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No.”
Isabel’s gaze did not leave the Coachman.
Though his face was different from Ron’s, that did not mean he was not Ron.
“You seem to be in a good mood.”
“Yes, I’m happy.”
The Coachman’s body trembled slightly.
He had asked if she seemed happy, but her answer was strange.
The Coachman cleared his throat once more and asked.
“Why are you in such a good mood?”
“I’m happy.”
The Coachman’s body trembled again.
“You find this landscape, where sunlight and breeze blend together, so pleasant?”
“Yes.”
The truth was, I’m happy because Father is here.
Isabel did not say those words, and Ron felt a pang of disappointment.
After some time had passed, Isabel asked.
“What do you think of my hair?”
Personally, I was quite pleased with it.
I had come to understand precisely what a Hewanuel was.
Still, I felt somewhat anxious.
After all, it deviated somewhat from the common sense of this world.
The Coachman answered.
“It’s beautiful.”
In truth, Ron was not entirely unsurprised either.
But that was all.
Even though her appearance had changed, Isabel was still Isabel.
No matter how her outward appearance changed, in Ron’s eyes she was a child precious beyond measure.
“Really? How much?”
“It’s the finest short hair I’ve ever seen.”
“Hehe.”
I shifted my body slightly to the side and leaned against him.
I rested my head on the Coachman’s shoulder.
That shoulder was remarkably broad and comforting.
It felt like the most solid shoulder in the world.
The Coachman spoke again.
“I heard you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
His voice was quite serene.
The breeze rustled gently, and a small stream flowed through the meadow.
“Don’t be angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“I’m fine. Really, I’m okay.”
The Coachman flared up suddenly.
“Could you stop saying you’re fine?”
“Can you talk to a Princess like that? If you do, I’ll tell my father.”
“…The Emperor?”
“Yes. The Emperor is a very frightening person.”
Through the magical energy churning within Ron’s body, I read his heart.
I felt the warmth of his affection directed toward me.
My chest tingled from it.
“Can I call you Father?”
“….”
“We’re in private, after all.”
Ron nearly said, “Yes, that’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“That is, well, yes, that’s the thing.”
It was a very strange answer.
I burst into laughter at his awkward response.
“Mister Coachman, you’re quite clumsy with words.”
“What do you mean by clumsy?”
“It’s just something like that.”
I simply cherished this moment.
I was grateful for this time, leaning against the shoulder of a dependable protector.
The weather was perfect, the breeze smelled wonderful, and my heart felt warm and cozy.
After a brief time passed, I finally spoke the words I’d been holding back.
“Mister Coachman. But you know, you’re aware that Teacher Biatone lost someone very precious to him, right?”
Suddenly, the carriage stopped.
It was nearly an emergency stop.
The carriage lurched forward violently, but it had no effect on me.
Ron had summoned his magical energy to protect me.
Ron burst out with a sharp cry.
“Biatone!”
“Listen, Coachman, you can’t operate a carriage like this… huh?”
The necklace that had been helping Ron maintain his disguise was shattered.
Ron had reverted to his true form.
“Your Majesty, I’m not sure why you’re suddenly angry, but…”
“What am I to you?”
“…Pardon?”
“Am I truly your friend?”
The smile vanished from Biatone’s face.
Biatone sensed Ron’s fury instinctively.
‘This is bad. Only the Empress can stop His Majesty in this state.’
Yet there was no way to bring Serna here.
Biatone took three steps backward.
If he didn’t retreat, he’d face a terrible outcome.
“Your Majesty, the Princess is here. Perhaps it would be wise to restrain yourself?”
“…”
Remarkably, Ron was taking deep breaths to calm his agitation.
‘This actually works?’
Another person capable of restraining Ron had emerged besides Serna.
For Biatone, it was nothing short of a miracle.
“What do you mean by losing someone precious?”
“That is…”
* * *
Ron and Biatone spoke separately at a distance from the carriage.
Biatone summarized the events that had transpired and explained them briefly.
“Still, Your Majesty, please don’t wear black mourning clothes.”
“Are you saying I have no right to express my condolences for your mother?”
“No, that’s not it—you know that well.”
“Shouldn’t I pay my respects?”
“That can wait.”
Biatone whispered something into Ron’s ear.
“Mother’s very existence restrains the Mage Federation’s ambitions. If her death becomes known at this moment, nothing good will come of it.”
“That’s rather cold.”
“We must show our Princess a slightly more beautiful world.”
“…”
“Among Mother’s research materials, there are contents that would be fatal to Mages, and especially matters concerning Wilhelm’s family. I’m studying them gradually. Why not postpone mourning Mother until after I’ve followed at least half of her path?”
“…”
“This is a request from a friend.”
Ron eventually nodded in agreement.
Biatone smiled brightly and pulled something from his pocket.
“And this is a gift for Your Majesty.”
“A gift?”
Ron’s expression immediately soured.
Judging by its size, it was clearly a painting.
Ron had taken to calling Biatone “that fool who insists he’s an artist.”
Biatone had given Ron abstract paintings depicting him several times, and Ron despised every single one.
Seeing how much Ron hated them only inspired Biatone to paint with greater enthusiasm.
“If it’s a portrait, I don’t need it. Throw it away.”
“Pardon? Really?”
Biatone deliberately unwrapped the cloth covering the portrait, then carefully rewrapped it.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Let me see it for a moment.”
“But you said to throw it away.”
“Just let me see it.”
“Why look at something you’re throwing away?”
“Hey.”
“Ho.”
Ron clenched his fist tightly.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to throw a punch.
Biatone was using the portrait as a shield to cover his face.
The cloth draped over the portrait slipped away and fell to the ground.
Within it was Isabel, smiling brightly.
“Lovely, isn’t it?”
“….”
“I should probably ask Yuri to check something for certain—whether there are wings beneath her shoulder blades or not.”
“….”
“When else will I ever see the Princess with such short hair? It was too precious not to preserve in a painting.”
“You said you only paint abstracts?”
This was no abstract—it was a meticulous portrait.
“That’s only because the subject is Your Majesty.”
“That’s casual speech.”
“Yes.”
“….”
Ron took a deep breath and spoke calmly.
“Hand it over. While I’m still asking nicely.”
* * *
“Once we cross this ridge, we’ll reach the Jirdel Base Camp.”
“Are you coming with us too, Father?”
Ron shook his head.
“If I go, it will cause quite a commotion. The soldiers will face difficulties.”
Isabel pouted slightly with a soft whimper.
She understood what he meant, but she felt reluctant about parting from her father.
“Still, thank you for making time for me.”
Don’t thank me.
I’m sorry I couldn’t spend more time with you—not that spending time with you is something to be grateful for.
I wanted to say that, but the words wouldn’t come.
“And about what you said the day before yesterday.”
“The day before yesterday?”
“You asked if I really loved this scenery where the sunlight and breeze blend together so much.”
“That’s right.”
“I would have enjoyed it even without the pleasant sunlight and breeze.”
“….”
“The truth is, I enjoyed it because I could have a peaceful conversation with you.”
Ron couldn’t hold back any longer and gently stroked Isabel’s hair.
He touched her with utmost care, as if she might shatter at the slightest wrong touch. Then he spoke.
“I heard you told the child you met in Calphoa Village that it’s okay not to be okay. That applies to you as well. You don’t have to be okay. If you’re not, I’ll be here to hold you.”
If he could, he wanted to spend all the remaining time for Isabel.
He was envious of Biatone, who could stay by Isabel’s side all day.
But as Emperor, Ron could not do that.
There was still much work piling up.
He had to force his reluctant feet to move.
Ron finally turned his steps toward the Imperial Palace, and Biatone took the reins.
In the distance, the Jirdel Base Camp came into view.
‘Hm?’
But then a massive surge of magical power was felt.
Opening the window to look outside, a sandstorm was raging.
Even slight tremors could be felt.
It seemed as though something enormous was rushing toward them.
A roar echoed through the sandstorm.
“Isaaaaaabeeeeeel!!!”
Michael was charging forward like a crazed rhinoceros.
Even that much was within the realm of expectation.
What he hadn’t anticipated was what came next.
Behind Michael, two men were following.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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