Time Healer Ceres - Chapter 8

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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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Chapter 8: Arnold Sanatorium
“Was she born without a brain?”
When Ceres returned to her room, what she did was, quite literally, to take stock of the situation.
As she reviewed the debts accumulated over time and the sum that needed to be paid immediately, Ceres found herself seized by a fury she hadn’t felt in years.
Heat climbed her neck, and a dull ache settled at the base of her skull.
“She borrowed this kind of money willingly?”
However desperate one’s circumstances, there were debts one could take on and debts one absolutely should never touch.
“One hundred thirty-five percent?”
The annual interest rate alone was one hundred thirty-five percent.
Most of the lenders from whom Ceres had borrowed against the house and land charged roughly this rate. It meant the interest had long since surpassed the principal.
“Why would anyone take out a Usury Loan? What kind of nerve—or what kind of stupidity—does that take?”
Even in Grace, there were those who trafficked in such predatory debts. Of course, it had been a world entirely removed from her own.
She’d thought it was simply a matter of amazement that such people actually existed, that they would borrow money they knew would destroy their lives—desperation must have driven them to madness. That was all the reflection she’d managed.
Or so she’d thought at the time.
‘But now.’
The original owner of this body had actually taken out such a loan.
“Unexpectedly fearless, wasn’t she?”
Or perhaps genuinely thoughtless.
How could anyone look at such an interest rate and simply decide to borrow?
“Damn it.”
The image of that girl in the darkness came back to her—weeping pitifully, begging for help.
Had she taken her own life because of these debts?
Because she could no longer bear it?
‘Now I understand why the girl was so bitter toward her.’
Ceres had wondered why her Aunt had been so sharp with her, returning to her birth family out of concern for her nieces—only to discover that it was her Aunt who had introduced all these Usury Loans in the first place.
She’d pressured them into borrowing, insisting that they had to save Julia, that the money had to come from somewhere.
‘She wasn’t wrong, technically.’
One couldn’t let a sibling die.
“And yet——”
After tracking down and examining every record of Julia’s treatment costs, Ceres reached another certainty.
‘The Arnold Sanatorium.’
The sanatorium where Julia currently resided was not a legitimate establishment.
The earlier statements had been no different—merely endless lists of expensive medicinal herbs and compounds.
“Is this place actually a sanatorium at all?”
Or just a medicine merchant’s shop?
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
With permission granted, Antonien entered carefully.
Seeing the table piled high with scattered documents, the boy exhaled a long breath.
“Do you understand what you’re looking at?”
She wasn’t trying to dismiss him—genuinely curious how much he grasped.
“Roughly.”
“If we don’t sell the shop, Julia can’t get the treatment she needs?”
Though she’d told their Aunt they absolutely could not sell the shop, young Antonien understood well enough that clinging to it while Julia’s treatment hung in the balance was no answer at all.
“That shop meant everything to Father and Mother.”
A stew shop situated prominently in the Commercial District.
It was established by the first patriarch of the Drau Baronial House.
The original head of the Drau House had been an exceptional mercenary who distinguished himself greatly in war, was rewarded with a Baronial Title for his service, and amassed considerable wealth through shrewd commerce as well.
His dying wish had been singular and simple.
‘That shop is a sanctuary for mercenaries. It must never be allowed to disappear.’
That legacy had been honored by all for generations, and Ceres’s parents had tended it with the utmost care.
But three years ago, disaster struck when her parents were killed in a carriage accident while away.
Not long after their funeral, Julia—who was only four at the time—fell suddenly and mysteriously ill.
Many physicians came and went, yet none could identify the cause.
‘I know of a sanatorium with a very skilled healer,’ her Aunt had said. ‘What if we sent her there?’
At her Aunt’s suggestion, Julia had been sent to the sanatorium, and from that moment on, the astronomical treatment bills had begun.
‘This is the only place willing to lend you money now.’
‘We need to save Julia, don’t we? If we don’t borrow now, that poor child will die without proper treatment.’
It was her Aunt who had encouraged them to take out the Usury Loan.
There was no other choice.
She signed the documents with her stamp as her aunt urged, and from that day forward, massive sums began appearing in the bills—interest piling upon interest in an endless spiral.
Now the only asset left in the Drau Baronial House worth anything was that one shop in the Commercial District.
‘Which means this house will be forfeit soon too.’
Ceres clicked her tongue inwardly, again and again.
Even at this very moment, the interest was accumulating steadily, relentlessly.
“Don’t listen to what your aunt says anymore! That shop is…….”
“And if you don’t sell the shop? Do you have another way?”
“That’s…….”
Antonien couldn’t answer and hung his head low.
No matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of another way.
‘What should I do?’
Did he really have to sell the shop?
The place his mother and father had worked so hard to protect for so long?
Selling the shop wouldn’t solve everything anyway.
Even if this month’s treatment costs were covered that way, what about next month? And the month after that?
And if he lost even the income from the shop, how would they survive after that?
‘But what about Julia?’
If he couldn’t pay her treatment costs this month, what would happen to her?
‘…I’m pathetic.’
In the end, there was nothing he could do.
His own bold words to his aunt—that he would find a way—suddenly felt childish and foolish.
“Lift your head.”
At that moment came Ceres’s voice.
As he slowly raised his head, he could see Ceres with her brow deeply furrowed.
Antonien bit his lower lip hard.
His sister was clearly disappointed in him too. She must think he was a useless brother who couldn’t help at all…….
Smack.
“Ow!”
Antonien quickly covered his forehead. Ceres had struck it very hard with her palm.
“What are you doing!”
At Antonien’s bewildered cry, Ceres clicked her tongue with displeasure still written across her face.
“Only twelve years old, and yet.”
“What?”
“You’re trying to handle everything alone? What’s all this fuss?”
“Are you looking down on me……!”
Smack.
“Ow! It hurts!”
“You’re the one looking down on me.”
…….
“I’m your sister.”
“…What?”
“I said I’m your sister. And I’m five years older than you, at that.”
Antonien, rubbing his aching forehead, gazed at her with slightly vacant eyes.
Whoosh.
……!
As her hand rose again, Antonien flinched, wondering if he was about to be hit once more.
Soft thud.
But the hand that touched his head this time was far gentler and more careful than he expected, leaving him speechless once again.
‘How much didn’t he trust me.’
She didn’t know the exact circumstances, but from what she’d observed of Antonien, he seemed to be bearing all the weight entirely alone.
‘Running here, scurrying there.’
Perhaps the original owner of this body had been so unreliable that this was the root of it?
From what she’d gathered, even the house servants looked down on him as a daily matter.
When he faced unfair treatment or heartache, instead of trying to right it, he would simply weep in solitude and swallow his pain.
A sister who had even tried to end her own life.
‘What must that boy have thought, watching a sister like that?’
A twelve-year-old child had been burdened with a weight far too heavy and vast for his years.
The very person he should have relied on had become someone he had to care for and protect instead.
“From now on, leave it to me.”
“Hand it over?”
“Listen, little one—you need to sit this out.”
“…Don’t call me that.”
Whether it was the nickname that stung or something else, Antonien’s cheeks flushed slightly, and Ceres ruffled his hair again with a light touch.
“What are you planning to do? Sell the place?”
“For now…”
Ceres’s gaze drifted to the stack of papers spread across the table.
The document on top bore large, unmistakable lettering.

“I need to meet with Julia first, I think.”
* * *
“Gur Village.”
Ceres retrieved the one map the household possessed and studied the exact location of the sanatorium where Julia stayed.
“Even on horseback, it would take a month to reach.”
She needed to assess the child’s condition before deciding anything, yet a month felt unbearably long.
“I wonder if that would even work.”
Ceres moved her hand experimentally through the air, as if testing something.

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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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