I Was Just Having Fun With The Time Limit - Chapter 155

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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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I let out a light laugh.
“Isn’t everyone being a bit too serious?”
There was little reason for these people to become so grave all at once.
It was probably related to my remaining lifespan—a mere ten years left.
“I wish Teacher Karin would just tell me quickly. What if I die of curiosity first?”
“Please don’t say such things.”
I had meant it as a jest, but Karin, as always, remained stern and serious.
One more joke and I feared something terrible might happen.
“I have a rough idea what this is about anyway. So please, speak freely. It’s necessary regardless.”
“According to Beksah’s records, that magic falls within the realm of transcendent magic and requires divine authority.”
“Divine authority?”
“It requires the divine breath—something even dragons cannot overcome, according to the records.”
Though he used the euphemism “breath,” I understood what he meant.
“Narbidal’s Mark?”
A curse bestowed by the divine—something even dragons cannot escape.
It seemed to refer to Narbidal’s Mark.
Viscount Biatonn spoke carefully.
“As you know, Your Highness, my mother also received Narbidal’s Mark.”
I remembered that time.
Viscount Biatonn had wept like a child who had lost his mother.
Even now, recalling that moment felt like being pierced through the heart with an awl.
“That is why she left behind considerable research related to it.”
The death of Viscount Biatonn’s mother.
As this topic arose, I too felt the weight of solemnity settle upon me.
Ah, so this was why everyone’s expressions grew dark.
I began to understand why people became so grave whenever the subject of my remaining lifespan came up.
“It’s fine. There’s no problem at all. I am someone who has received the divine breath that even dragons cannot overcome. Really now, don’t make such faces. Your sorrow changes nothing. We must do what we can today.”
* * *
Isabel began learning a magic called “Dimensional Severance Barrier” alongside three teachers.
With innate magical talent and mathematical comprehension rivaling even Beksah’s, the training was not burdensome.
Biatone and Karin in particular found themselves repeatedly astonished by Isabel’s genius.
Meanwhile, Johen, the First Instructor of the Black Whale, summoned Arun.
“Arun.”
Arun, who had been meditating in seiza, opened his eyes.
He rose from his seat.
“My apologies, I did not notice your arrival.”
Currently, he was an apprentice knight of the Black Whale.
No matter how noble his original station, such things held no significance here.
The Grand Prince Arun showed proper respect to Johen, a man of fallen noble birth.
“His Majesty the Emperor has summoned you.”
“The Emperor himself?”
Arun tilted his head in confusion.
Why would the supreme ruler of all men summon a mere apprentice knight like himself?
Johen exhaled deeply.
“What kind of trouble have you been causing?”
“I don’t recall causing any particular trouble.”
“It seems you’ve violated some imperial decree.”
“….”
Arun fell silent, searching his memory.
Yet he couldn’t fathom which imperial decree he might have broken.
“I’m not certain.”
“Think quickly. There’s a difference between being struck knowing the reason and being struck without knowing it.”
Johen sighed heavily once more.
In truth, he had grown quite fond of Arun.
He’d expected him to have been raised like a delicate flower in a greenhouse, yet Arun was quietly and diligently completing the rigorous training of the Black Whale.
His taciturn nature and blunt demeanor were flaws, perhaps, but Johen appreciated those qualities as well.
After all, a knight’s feet should be light and his tongue heavy.
As an instructor guiding apprentice knights, Johen pondered alongside Arun.
‘Surely it’s not that?’
Recently, Biatone had drafted an official document conveying an imperial decree.
The content was so absurd that everyone had dismissed it lightly.
‘No way.’
Just to be safe, he decided to verify.
“Have you had any recent conversations with Princess Isabel?”
“Not particularly.”
Could that even be called a conversation?
There was a gap between what Arun considered a conversation and what had actually occurred.
A true conversation, after all, was the exchange of feelings and shared experiences—a rather sophisticated communion between intelligent beings.
Arun had decided not to regard his previous exchange with Isabel as a conversation.
It had been far too hollow to deserve such a name.
“As I thought. Then what could it be?”
“The only way to find the answer is to go and see for myself. I shall return shortly.”
* * *
“As I always say, you need not go if you don’t wish to.”
Viscount Biatonn gazed at me with warm eyes as he spoke.
Suddenly, I felt a pang of longing.
“Why don’t you pat my head anymore these days?”
“Because you are no longer a young child, Your Highness.”
Viscount Biatonn smiled brightly, yet I clearly saw it—
his eyes wavered for just a moment.
“You definitely want to pat my head, don’t you?”
“That is not the case. I cannot presume to touch the Princess’s head so carelessly.”
“You can, though.”
Despite being physically more mature, I am still ten years old.
In Korea, ten years old is still considered a young child.
The adults around me these days seemed to be studying ‘child-rearing’ quite thoroughly.
For instance, rules to follow according to developmental stages, things to be cautious about.
It seemed they were studying such things separately, and among them was apparently content about being careful with physical contact.
I wasn’t failing to understand, but still, it was disappointing.
“You can pat my head.”
Of course, that didn’t mean I wanted just anyone to do it.
It was fine because it was Viscount Biatonn.
“Understood. I shall consider it. In any case, are you going today as well?”
Every Tuesday.
I would visit Sermon’s room and spend a certain amount of time conversing with him.
“I’m going. And Teacher, I don’t hate Brother Sermon as much anymore.”
At that time, Sermon had been controlled by Duke Bladog’s blood magic.
Nevertheless, at first I could not forgive Sermon.
To be precise, unless I hated Sermon, I could not escape the sorrow of losing Bumblebee.
I needed some reason for why I had to lose Bumblebee.
“Then let us go.”
I headed toward Sermon’s room with Viscount Biatonn.
Sermon is currently confined in the ‘Labyrinth Palace,’ located in the most remote part of the imperial palace.
As the name suggests, it is a place surrounded by a labyrinth on its exterior.
It was designed so that the imperial family could escape should they ever need to evacuate.
Now it serves as Sermon’s prison.
So that Sermon, who has become a simpleton, cannot escape carelessly.
“I’m here.”
Sermon sprang up from the bed.
He smiled brightly upon seeing me.
When I am not here, Sermon apparently stares blankly outside like an emotionless doll.
It is said that he shows hostility the moment a maid or anyone approaches.
As a result, those responsible for Sermon’s meals are composed of knights of a certain caliber or higher.
Ordinary people might develop trauma from being overwhelmed by Sermon’s presence, or so they say.
“You haven’t been tormenting anyone, have you?”
“I was only waiting for you.”
Unfortunately, both of Sermon’s wrists and ankles were fitted with restraints made of steel.
Though he had risen, he could not come any closer to me.
“The restraints aren’t uncomfortable for you?”
“They are uncomfortable. But Isabel said I cannot kill people.”
What I mean is, Sermon sometimes suffers from inexplicable anxiety.
When he feels that way, it’s as if someone whispers “kill” in his ear.
Unable to suppress those urges, he forcibly restrains himself with binding tools.
“I haven’t killed anyone.”
“You did well.”
Sermon sat down on the edge of the bed.
He seemed to be hoping I would come sit beside him.
I was still afraid of being near Sermon, but I went to his side anyway.
For an entire week he remains vacant, and then for just one hour he regains vitality.
“Brother, why do you only wait for this hour?”
“Because only this hour is precious.”
“What about the other hours?”
“Meaningless.”
One week.
Out of 168 hours, only one hour held meaning for him.
And that hour just happened to be when he saw me.
“Why does the time spent with me have meaning?”
“I love Isabel.”
“….”
I wasn’t particularly pleased by his declaration that he loved me.
This wasn’t normal affection.
It wasn’t that he truly loved me for who I was—rather, it felt like the world contained so many terrible things that I seemed good only by comparison.
It was like the feeling a young child might have, never having experienced anything truly good.
‘This cannot continue.’
I had been thinking this for the past several months.
I couldn’t leave Sermon as he was.
‘Father and Mother are searching for solutions in their own ways, but….’
Still, after a year, there had been no progress.
‘I know a way to cure Sermon.’
It was only recently that I had thought of this.
Saint Maria, who appears in 【When the Doomed Villainess Dies】.
Maria would be able to cure Sermon.
However, Maria is a character who appears only in the latter half of the novel, and according to the story’s timeline, she wouldn’t be active until approximately fifteen years from now.
Since she was forty-four years old when she joined Arun, she should be in her late twenties by now.
‘She must be living in hiding, concealing her power.’
At this point in time, no one would know of Maria’s existence.
Only I, as a reader, knew this fact.
She was probably living an ordinary life somewhere in a small mountain village on Sky Island.
With her abilities thoroughly concealed.
“I’ll come again next time.”
“Yes, I’ll wait for you.”
“Don’t wait too long—you have your own duties to attend to, Brother.”
“My duty is to wait for Isabel.”
“….”
Sermon flashed me a bright smile before obediently settling into bed and lying down.
When I glanced back at him, his eyes had lost all their light once more.
Imagining him lying there like a doll for an entire week made my heart ache again.
‘At this hour, Father should be at the training grounds.’
I headed straight to my Biological Father’s private training grounds.
‘Hmm? He’s not here?’
Just to be sure, I checked his office.
“Oh? The Biological Father is in his office?”
“…Is it strange that the Emperor is in his office?”
It was unusual, but not entirely out of the ordinary.
“But there really is something odd about this. Why is Prince Arun here?”
Why were the Emperor and an apprentice Knight having a private meeting?
Given their stations, it was difficult for them to be in the same room together.
‘Arun seems to be in quite an awkward position?’
I couldn’t help but be sensitive about Arun.
Arun must never be mistreated.
He’s the protagonist of this novel, after all!
“What’s going on here? Is the Biological Father perhaps tormenting Prince Arun?”

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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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