Chapter 86

It was two or three hours later when Mikhail met Cashion again.

Inside a café on the city's main boulevard.

Mikhail stole a glance at the sun hanging high overhead, took a sip of the tea on the table, and spoke.

"Thank you for waiting, Cashion."

Cashion waved him off from across the table.

"An old man's only surplus is time—think nothing of it. More importantly, I'm glad to hear you're well, young lord."

Cashion's gaze came to rest on the teacup in front of Mikhail.

A northern variety, prized for its warming properties.

He watched the wisps of steam curl upward in silence, then let a smile settle onto his lips.

"That makes twice now you've done me a great kindness."

…A great kindness.

Mikhail called to mind the details of Cashion's backstory and spoke.

"You served in the North's borderland defense corps, didn't you, Cashion?"

"Yes. That's right. Over twenty years ago now. Time has a merciless way of slipping past, but…."

Cashion let out a small, quiet laugh and tilted his head, drifting back through the years.

"No matter how much time passes, certain moments never fade. For me, it was that day twenty years ago. The Iron Cavalry of the Bitter Cold—that's what they called the beast. Every last soldier in the unit had resigned themselves to death. And then Lord Joseph stepped to the front and saved us all. That moment… I'll carry it with me for the rest of my life."

Cashion straightened and offered a gentle smile to Mikhail across the table.

"It's a shame, really. If the blizzard had died down just a little, I might have seen Lord Joseph's face clearly. Then perhaps I would have recognized you the moment we met."

"Maybe so. I look quite a bit like my father."

Mikhail matched the light tone with an easy smile and took another sip of tea.

Then he drew a neatly folded letter from his inner pocket and held it out to Cashion.

"What is this?"

Mikhail met Cashion's puzzled gaze and spoke.

"Your younger sister is a renowned physician and curse-breaker. There's someone I'd like to ask her to examine."

The unexpected subject made Cashion flinch. He stiffened, then stammered out a reply.

"How could you possibly know about my sister, young lord?"

Mikhail let a gentle smile form and continued.

"During the years when the North was plagued by monstrous beasts—the story of two sisters who ran the front lines rescuing the wounded? I know it well."

A small sound of surprise escaped Cashion's lips, chased by a slightly sheepish smile.

"You honor us by remembering."

A brief pause settled between them. Mikhail drew a measured breath and spoke in a low, steady voice.

"The person I'd like her to examine is named Julien Leventia. A mage around my age, bound by a powerful restriction-type curse."

Cashion's eyes widened.

"Leventia? They're part of the southern great mage family, aren't they? Surely at odds with the North."

"No—Julien is my friend. Even if the restriction can't be fully undone, that's fine. Just have her observe the precautions outlined in the letter and conduct the examination with care."

Cashion couldn't find the words to respond. He studied Mikhail's face in silence for a long moment.

Then his gaze dropped to the letter on the table, expression turning solemn.

At last, his features softened. He bowed his head.

"Yes. I'll see to it without fail."

Cashion detached an aged insignia from his jacket and handed it to Mikhail, who accepted it without hesitation.

After that, there was no further business between them.

Only the faint clink of teacups touching saucers drifted through the air and faded.

Clink.

By the time their cups ran dry—

Cashion swallowed hard, looked at Mikhail's face, and parted his lips with visible reluctance.

"Young lord. If I may be so bold…. Is the young master Sion in good health?"

The instant Cashion finished, the sound of Mikhail setting down his cup rang louder than it should have.

Clink.

Rather than answering immediately, Mikhail pressed his lips tight and silently repeated the name he'd just heard.

Sion Senit.

A cousin by blood, though now regarded as a younger brother.

The one who, after Mikhail's death in the original story, had succeeded Joseph and ascended to the seat of the North.

"……"

Mikhail blinked slowly, then raised his head to meet Cashion's eyes.

His reply came in a voice stripped of all emotion.

"Yes. Sion is doing well."

---

Half a day slipped by after that. Sunset was beginning to spill across the distant sky.

Julien climbed a small hill road on the outskirts of the city.

The dirt path along the slope wound on for ten minutes or so.

When he reached the end, he found Mikhail standing alone at the hilltop.

"……"

Mikhail was leaning against the railing, staring out at the city's skyline in silence.

Julien paused mid-step, studying that still, settled profile for a moment.

Then he approached with a notably light voice.

"How'd things go with Cashion?"

"Fine."

Mikhail let a beat pass before speaking.

"What did you want to say?"

Julien hesitated—but it wasn't long before he was scratching his cheek with his usual easy grin.

"Mm, where do I even start with this."

The playful drawl trailed off, but only for a moment.

Julien released a quiet breath and spoke.

"Mikhail, starting from the next mission—let's go our separate ways."

Mikhail said nothing. But he straightened from the railing and turned to face Julien fully.

Those deep blue eyes held Julien's gaze for several long seconds.

Then a flat, measured voice slipped from Mikhail's lips.

"Why?"

Julien dropped his head at an angle, wavered briefly, and answered.

"Do I need to give you a reason?"

The toneless reply came without pause.

"No."

A cold thread of wind cut between them.

Julien lifted his eyes and found Mikhail staring out at the cityscape as though he'd already lost interest.

He was the one who'd drawn the line first—so why the faint sting of bitterness, he couldn't say.

"I think I know what you're planning."

That was when it happened. Words he hadn't expected landed in his ears, carried on that dry, even voice.

"Huh?"

"You're going back, aren't you? To your family's estate."

Julien couldn't hide the shock. His mouth opened and closed without sound.

The voice he finally managed came out halting, the tremor of surprise impossible to mask.

"How… how did you know?"

"You've always wanted to stay on good terms with me. And if there's something you can't bring yourself to tell me—there aren't many possibilities."

Mikhail pushed off the railing and stood upright.

Those dark blue eyes locked onto Julien as the words took shape.

"Don't go, Julien."

"……"

"If they try to gauge your mana while you're there, things could get dangerous."

Julien swallowed dryly but said nothing. Then he bit down on his lip and forced himself to speak.

"You're right, Mikhail. But I have to go. I have my reasons."

Julien clenched his fist and pressed on.

"I don't know why, but… my memories, my emotions—they're not whole. But they're things I never want to lose. They matter more than anything to me. I refuse to let anyone take my memories and feelings away."

There was no room for retreat in Julien's voice as he spoke his wish aloud—only unyielding resolve.

Mikhail let out a slow breath and studied Julien's profile as he continued with quiet composure.

"The estate is dangerous, but… there's a family physician who's always been kind to me. Someone who felt sorry for me ever since I was small. I know the layout of the grounds, so I'll slip in and find them under cover of night. A doctor who can address both the physical and the mental side of things—you won't find one easily outside of someone like that."

Mikhail hummed softly and turned to face forward.

He tilted his head as though weighing something, then straightened away from the railing.

Mikhail took one step toward Julien.

"Julien. Hold out your hand."

Julien's shoulders twitched at Mikhail's approach, but he extended his hand without protest.

Mikhail set an aged insignia on his open palm.

The very one Cashion had given him as proof of his request for the examination.

"What's this?"

Julien stared at the object resting in his hand, then lifted his eyes to Mikhail.

Mikhail spoke in a voice without inflection.

"Go with Edwin to the Delporn Mountains in the east. You'll find a doctor there who can look into your condition."

"……"

"She spent years on the northern front lines, saving countless people suffering from ailments of the body and of mana alike. She's also owed our family a debt of gratitude. Her skill and her trustworthiness are both beyond question. This will be safer for you."

Julien swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the northern insignia sitting in his hand.

A storm of conflicting emotions raged behind those fixed, unblinking eyes.

Julien raised his head slowly, looked at Mikhail, and asked in a careful, tentative voice.

"Is it really okay… for me to accept something like this?"

Mikhail answered without a shred of hesitation.

"Yeah. You're my friend."

Julien's breath hitched and broke. His violet eyes blew wide, every tremor of his heart reflected in their depths as they shook without end.

Mikhail smiled gently at Julien, frozen where he stood.

"I'll see you again soon, Julien."

Julien drew a shaking breath. His fingers tightened around the insignia, crushing it against his palm, and his head dropped.

His hunched frame began to tremble.

"……"

The warm orange glow of late afternoon settled over him in silence, staining his hair and shoulders.

Before long, Julien raised his head—unsteady, halting.

His eyes were brimming, steeped in sunset, on the verge of spilling over at any moment.

But all he wore now was a radiant smile, spread across every inch of his face, as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Yeah. Let's see each other again real soon, Mikhail."