Let the Whales Fight, This Shrimp is Leaving! - Chapter 64

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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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Episode 64
Idir Hubert calmly fielded Deyan Boislav Nemanic’s confession of heart and promptly sent someone to arrange for his meal and fresh clothes.
While Deyan was unconscious, it seemed she had taken good care of the cat as well.
The cat, its belly now round and full, played contentedly inside a basket woven from plant stems.
Whether it was mere fancy or not, even its voice sounded more robust.
The cat, insisting with sharp meows that it wanted to go outside, finally managed to clamber out of the basket on its own four paws.
“My, how brave you’ve become.”
Idir, her long eyelashes lowered with elegant grace, scratched the head of the cat charging towards her with spirited determination.
“Have you given the cat a name?”
“Oh.”
“Not yet, then? How careless. Your master seems to have no interest in you at all.”
Idir attempted to drive a wedge between the cat and Deyan.
Deyan immediately refuted her lie.
“That’s not it. I simply didn’t know if it would be right to give it a name.”
“A name gives this child an identity.”
Idir carefully lifted the cat in both hands and set it down at the foot of the bed.
The cat began to climb the mound created by Deyan’s legs with eager determination.
“Since we’re on the subject, do think about it.”
“I’m not sure what would be a good name.”
“Your own name is quite long—just give it a few characters from yours.”
Such a method?
At Idir’s lukewarm response, Deyan nodded before shaking his head.
“That won’t do.”
“Why not?”
“If the cat takes my name and falls into misfortune, what would I do?”
“Then you’ll simply have to make sure you don’t fall into misfortune. How about Slav? Slav?”
Idir, dismissing Deyan’s objection out of hand, gave the cat a name of her own choosing.
“Slav likes it too.”
In the end, Deyan and the cat came to share a name.
‘Still doing as she pleases.’
Her unchanging manner actually put his mind at ease.
There was something reassuring about that unyielding attitude.
For some time now, he had simply existed as an empty vessel.
Not knowing what to do.
Breathing without any standard or principle to guide him.
Alone, there was no way forward, and he had not even dared to attempt a solution.
“If you try everything and still don’t know what you want, come to me then.”
“I will kill you myself.”
There could be no other woman in this world who would laugh while offering to kill a man imbued with Demon’s Power.
Should Deyan ask it of her, Idir would surely kill him without hesitation.
Even if their relationship developed in a better direction.
So if he grew needlessly attached, if useless affection took root, Idir would run her sword through his heart without a moment’s doubt.
Though the words had tumbled out on impulse, that thin declaration alone was so reassuring.
It was truly strange.
Deyan stroked the cat that had climbed all the way to his thigh, not realizing he was smiling.
“What became of Joaquin Perez’s return?”
“We sent him off safely for now. The rest depends on whether the messenger delegation can complete negotiations and return without incident. I’ll share word once any news arrives.”
“I understand. And from my adjutant…?”
“That’s strange. We should be hearing from him by now, but there’s still nothing.”
Something’s wrong, she muttered to herself, concern creasing her brow.
“So I’m thinking of sending more people.”
“Could you send someone to Count Nemanic as well, just in case?”
Deyan asked carefully.
“There are traces of a Demon summoning in the countship. Since Glay Holdin has a Demon attached to him as well, he may have gone to investigate that.”
“Understood.”
As Idir was answering, food and fresh clothes were delivered.
“Since I’ve confirmed you’re awake, I’ll take my leave now. Rest well.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Idir nodded at him in acknowledgment and left the room.
Deyan gazed after her, watching the door through which she’d disappeared, until the cat’s cry brought him back to himself.
The cat had suddenly lunged toward his food.
* * *
From the Adorif Empire, word was slow in coming.
Even the informant she’d sent to Count Nemanic had gone silent.
‘What’s going on?’
Something had clearly happened.
Unable to guess what it was, she found it difficult to determine her next move.
‘I thought he couldn’t possibly betray me.’
Surely not.
After all, Deyan wouldn’t die, and if she wounded him, she’d have to be prepared for losses on her own side. Did he go ahead anyway, thinking she wouldn’t act rashly?
That she couldn’t move without careful deliberation?
‘Was my threat too thin?’
Once she had him by the scruff of the neck, she’d have to warn him firmly enough that he’d never harbor such foolish thoughts again.
“Giselle. I’ll need to send more people to the Adorif Empire.”
“I’ll select suitable candidates.”
At Idir’s recitation of desired qualifications, Giselle moved with immediate efficiency.
‘Joaquin should have crossed the border by now.’
She gauged the timing and predicted when the next dispatch might arrive.
Then she finished processing documents before noticing her neck had grown stiff from sitting too long. She rose from her desk.
To work the stiffness from her body, she stretched and approached the window, letting the sunlight warm her.
Beneath the mild and generally fair weather of the Plene Grand Duchy, the garden trees, carefully tended to vibrant green, blended beautifully together.
And moving swiftly between them was a large man.
“Why does he look so pleased with himself?”
Incongruously cradling flowers in his arms, he crossed the garden with easy, confident strides.
I narrowed my eyes at the small smile playing on his face.
Deyan had changed recently.
It was a subtle shift, so minute that one wouldn’t notice it without close observation from his side, yet he had undeniably changed.
And I found myself oddly displeased by it.
I couldn’t say precisely why it bothered me.
Perhaps the subtly brightened Deyan seemed a touch irritating to me.
Ever since that incident, Deyan had begun openly flaunting his rapport with the hired staff.
I’d already heard that he loiters about whenever he has free time.
I also knew the staff was receiving him warmly, grateful for his help to me.
Since there was no reason to separate them, I’d let it be—but at this point, anyone looking might genuinely think we were courting.
I narrowed my eyes as I watched Deyan approach the building quickly.
‘He seems to have grown quite close to the gardener.’
And apparently he’d even taken a liking to flowers, which didn’t suit him at all. He must have gotten a few blooms.
“What’s he so pleased about?”
He’s not a child.
While I inwardly chided him for that innocent expression so at odds with his appearance, he vanished completely from view.
‘He’s going to his room, I suppose.’
I imagined Deyan arranging the flower stems with his large hands and thick arms, placing them carefully in a vase.
It shouldn’t suit him at all, yet somehow it didn’t look wrong—which struck me as funny.
‘He does have rather childish qualities, I’ll admit.’
Though it seems closer to foolishness than innocence.
It’s probably because he’s lived such a long time isolated emotionally and physically.
Even if he’d stuck close to Glay Holdin all these years, the latter would have been equally in need of care, so they wouldn’t have been much help to each other.
They’d simply have leaned on each other through that harsh existence.
Thinking of it that way, there was something rather pitiful about Deyan’s life, and I felt a stab of pity.
‘Why am I thinking about this?’
I suddenly became aware that I’d been thinking about Deyan.
It had been happening more and more of late.
Without realizing it, I’d find myself observing him, concerning myself with him, mulling over matters related to him—only to snap back to awareness.
‘Am I anxious?’
Worried he’ll carelessly lose that Pendant again and attack my people?
‘Should I post a guard on him?’
That might help, I suppose.
While I was seriously considering it, someone knocked on the Office door.
“Come in.”
Who is it?
You?
I furrowed my brow at the familiar low voice I heard from beyond the door.
“Come in.”
At my permission, the door opened, and Deyan peeked his head in, cradling flowers carefully in his arms.
‘Peeked? Is that even a word that suits that bear of a man?’
“Are you busy?”
“Yes. I’m busy. And didn’t I tell you not to come to this floor?”
“Ah, that’s… I’m sorry.”
Despite my aggressive tone, Deyan meekly cast his eyes about before apologizing.
Then he made as if to offer me the flowers he was holding.
“Halton asked me to give you these. I’ll hand them over and leave right away.”
That the man once called the Immortal of the Battlefield, feared and revered in equal measure, is now running errands for the gardener at my manor.
If anyone saw him, they’d really think he’d lost his memory.

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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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