The Return of Lilietta - Chapter 69

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 69

As Rita took the book, Oli pulled the box that had been placed on the table closer.

“And take this too.”

“What is this?”

“This is…”

Oli opened her mouth as if to explain, then suddenly narrowed her eyes and extended her hand toward Rita.

“Let me see the gun you’re using now.”

“…Why all of a sudden?”

“Is there something you’re guilty about? Don’t tell me you did something crazy to an old-fashioned gun because you don’t have a Matan?”

“No, I didn’t do anything. I just broke it in a little.”

“Then why are you reacting like that?”

“It’s just an automatic reflex. You scold me every time you inspect my gun.”

“Have I ever gotten angry for no reason? It’s because damn Rita Pascal does things worth scolding for. If you’re confident, what’s the problem? Hurry up and hand it over.”

“I know, I know… Who said I wouldn’t give it to you?”

Rita grumbled as she lifted the hem of her dress and drew Silvergrace from the holster on her thigh.

Oli, who had been staring blankly at that scene, pressed her forehead.

“…Forget about Matan or whatever, I need to make you a proper holster first.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think, you idiot friend of mine…”

Because it’s an urgent matter if I don’t want to see someone go crazy in various ways. Olivia only added that thought to herself.

Even with her previous body, that behavior would have been problematic, but the current Lillieta seemed to have amplified the issues tenfold. Even she, being the same gender and a friend, was momentarily mesmerized and couldn’t look away, so what about other people?

She took Rita’s revolver without hiding her look of exasperation and frustration.

Lillieta furrowed her brows.

“Don’t look at me like that and just say it with words.”

“There are some problems in this world that can’t be solved with words.”

Olivia gave a casual response and began examining Silvergrace thoroughly. Rita watched her for a moment, then opened the book she had just received.

Nothing was written on the leather-bound cover, but when she turned the cover, she saw a title written in Oli’s handwriting.

It seemed to mean the existing history that Pascal knew. She turned the page.

‘She said she transcribed it, but there’s even a table of contents.’

There were quite a few items. The table of contents alone was two pages.

From this year, 1770, to 1780, there was one chapter per year for 10 chapters, and from 1780 onwards, it was divided into 20-year periods for 10 chapters, totaling 20 chapters with the final year being 1980.

‘She memorized and wrote all of this? Sometimes when I look at Oli, she doesn’t seem like just a genius but not human at all.’

The first 10 chapters divided by year were roughly circled with a separate note attached.

‘Reform target, huh…’

Only that part was written in Gid’s handwriting, not Oli’s. Perhaps Gid had recorded the goals that Beacon had decided on while meeting with this book.

There was also a note in Gid’s handwriting at the final year in the table of contents, 1980.

‘Is this when Pascal’s children began to be mass-produced? From this point on must be the Ashen World we know, or rather, the Ashen Era. More than 200 years from now…’

It was enough time for the world to change so much that it could be mistaken for a different world. Even if just 200 years had passed, it would have changed tremendously, but on top of that, disasters had erupted and magical beasts had run rampant.

Rita looked at the item labeled 1980 with an uneasy feeling, then looked at the next page.

‘Huh?’

Her eyes widened involuntarily. Below the ‘Hero Chronicles’ section, which had doodles that made it obvious who had written them, names were listed as a table of contents.

1. Gideon el Redert Kairam

2. Seraphina Shadea

3. Olivia den Luna Blen

4. Isaiah Kortvan

5. Lucas den Mayer Winterfield

6. Ghost

7. Rita? Lillieta del Nisa Raskail

These seemed to be the real names of the returned Beacon squad members. She could guess who was who just by looking at the names. Her name had correction marks, so it seemed Oli had rewritten it after confirming her return.

‘So Pascal just roughly shortened our real names when naming us. But why is Ethan called Ghost? Did he only remain in history with the nickname Ghost?’

This was also interesting. In the Ashen Era, Ethan was indeed called by the nickname ‘Ghost’ of Beacon.

Seeing the Hero Chronicles section, it seemed to be their life stories as recorded in the history Pascal knew. Just as her curiosity peaked and she hurriedly turned the page.

A knock echoed through the reception room.

Lillieta immediately threw down the book, snatched Silvergrace from Oli’s hand, hid her behind her back, then aimed the gun barrel at the reception room door.

‘They came right to the door but I couldn’t sense their presence.’

All her nerves were on edge.

Even while talking with Oli, Rita had been keeping her Oaths spread out the entire time, detecting whether anyone was approaching the reception room. It was a conversation that couldn’t be carelessly overheard by others.

This was the same for Oli, who as a magician skilled in all kinds of battlefields, had cast soundproofing and detection magic as soon as she arrived at the reception room. It was magic that Oli always installed at the campsites where the Beacon squad stayed, so Rita had sensed it but took it for granted like air.

So whoever just knocked had brazenly entered within the range of Matan’s perimeter while ignoring the magic the witch had installed.

If they hadn’t knocked, she might not have noticed until they entered the reception room. It was something only a ghost could do.

‘Someone else who could do this is, ah.’

No way.

Rita narrowed her eyes without lowering her gun barrel.

* * *

Hanna was carefully walking while carrying a tray with beautifully arranged desserts and a tea set. It was refreshments to bring to the young lady who was meeting with her friend.

When she entered the corridor leading to the reception room, she spotted a man sitting on the corridor window.

‘Huh, huh? A thief… no, he’s not?’

Hanna, who was about to scream thinking he was a thief, swallowed her scream when she recognized the man’s face.

It was footman Ethan.

A man with pale skin and a languid impression, who had a mysteriously dangerous feel that earned him comparisons to a debaucherous prince or a promiscuous artist among the maids.

‘Huh, but his hair… why? His eyes too, the color…’

The Ethan that Hanna secretly had feelings for had disheveled golden-brown curly hair and murky blue-gray eyes.

However, the ‘Ethan’ now sitting on the windowsill and staring blankly at the reception room door had snow-white hair like an old man and blood-red eyes like drops of blood. Combined with his unnaturally pale skin as if his pigmentation had disappeared, he looked as unreal as a ghost.

Or perhaps like a cracked plaster statue. He was staring motionlessly at one spot and looked so precarious as if he would shatter if touched.

‘Come to think of it, I think this is the first time I’ve seen Ethan not smiling.’

His changed appearance and eerie atmosphere were more surprising than the fact that he was sitting on a second-floor window like a thief.

‘Oh right, Ethan took leave, didn’t he? Right after the boat incident… He said he was going to visit his hometown, did something happen there?’

Hanna was observing him in a daze when she trembled slightly. The tea set on the tray clinked, and he, who had been looking only toward the reception room, suddenly turned his head.

Hanna, whose eyes met his, smiled awkwardly to show she was glad to see him. However, Ethan didn’t return the smile. He just looked her up and down with an expressionless face.

Before, he used to smile brightly as soon as he saw her. Recently he had become strangely cold, but still, when they passed each other, he would smile and greet her.

‘Could he be someone else?’

Just as Hanna was suspecting this and about to step back, Ethan got down from the window and strode toward her.

“This, you’re taking it to the reception room, right?”

“Ah? Y-yes, but… you are Ethan, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Why are your hair and eye color…”

“Ah.”

Ethan tugged at his grayish-white hair with his fingers and answered.

“This is the original color.”

“Huh? Then before…”

“I used tools to change the color.”

“Why, why?”

“Why? Don’t you know? Original colors are creepy and grotesque.”

“Uh, uh, uh… I, I don’t really know…”

“You don’t know?”

He bent his waist and suddenly thrust his face forward.

Amidst the complete paleness, only his blood-red eyes came close to her nose. Looking closely, she could see blood vessels showing through his transparent irises, which made them appear red.

Like a ghost, specter, or demon.

Hanna realized for the first time that white could look this ominous. It wasn’t the sacred or pure white light, but the color of dried bones.

It was eerie.

When she reflexively shrank back and averted her gaze, Ethan straightened his back and stepped away.

“Now you understand, right? How creepy it is.”

“…”

He quietly watched Hanna, who couldn’t say anything and kept her eyes downcast, then grabbed the tray she was holding and smiled brightly.

“I’ll take this.”

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