plumnovel Chapter 160 : Chapter 160
Chapter 160 : Chapter 160
Chapter 160. Recollection
“That kind of thing is a heavy, suffocating erosion. She wrapped that pathological need for control in the shell of ‘motherly love,’ and through endless demands, tears, and self-destructive tendencies, she locked me firmly inside that cramped, mold-ridden little house.”
“I had to be her listener, her support, and the only pillar holding up that shattered aristocratic dream.”
Logaris turned around to look at Sylvia. Behind the lenses, his eyes shone with a nearly cruel rationality.
“Responsibility is the strongest kind of shackle. Back then, I was trapped in that tiny space called morality and blood ties.”
“Because she was my mother, I could not bring myself to leave her behind. I could not just walk away like that man did. That inescapable obligation was the only real thing in my childhood.”
“On the night she died, I sat at her bedside with not the slightest trace of grief in my heart. There was only the dazed feeling that a long sentence had finally come to an end.”
“Before that, no matter how deeply I longed for freedom, no matter how much I desired it down to my bones, I still could not truly abandon her in that mire to live or die on her own, because of that identity and because of that tiny shred of moral restraint.”
“The moment she breathed her last, my only thought was—finally, it’s over.”
“I could finally stop giving up everything just to take care of her. I could finally stop suppressing my own nature just to satisfy those absurd desires of hers to control everything. In that moment, even the cold wind leaking into the house felt sweet.”
Logaris let out a self-mocking laugh. “Do you think that makes me cold-blooded? To feel freedom at a moment when I should have felt grief... perhaps that is the original sin on me that can never be washed clean.”
Sylvia did not know how to answer, but Logaris went on as if speaking only to himself.
“Sylvia, do you remember the first day we entered Saint Arcadia Academy, when our mentor asked us what our dreams were?”
Sylvia’s gaze shifted slightly, and she answered softly, “I remember. You said you wanted freedom. Absolute freedom, with no one able to restrain you.”
“That’s right.” Logaris looked toward the snow-covered mound. “That is why I stepped onto the path of the extraordinary. In this life, I never want to be trapped by anything ever again—whether it is family, divine authority, or this damned fate.”
Sylvia listened to these fragments of the past she had never heard before, watching the man before her who remained absolutely rational even while recounting painful memories.
She did not tease him with words as she usually would, nor did she show any lofty pity.
Silently, she stepped forward, her boots making soft crunching sounds in the snow. She moved close to Logaris’s side and, amid the falling snow, gently hooked herself around his arm from the side, leaning half her weight against him.
It was not an intense gesture, yet it carried an unusual steadiness.
This was not a knight protecting a mage, nor was it a superior politically comforting a subordinate. It was simply the most direct acceptance a woman could offer after seeing all the scars a man carried.
Logaris’s body stiffened for an instant. That was an instinctive psychological defense built up over many years. But then he felt the warmth coming through the heavy layers of clothing.
That warmth gradually loosened his tense muscles and completely drove away the chill that had clung to those memories like a shadow.
Snowflakes drifted down in silence. The two of them stood for a long time before the nameless grave. In the end, Logaris did not push her away. He simply allowed that rare stillness to spread across the wilderness.
“Let’s go.”
After a long while, Logaris spoke again. His voice had already returned to its usual calm and composure. He turned and walked toward the horses not far away, his movements clean and decisive, never once turning back to look at the grave that had buried his childhood.
“Back to Winter City. There is still a mountain of messes in the Northern Territory waiting for us to deal with.”
Sylvia released his arm and swung herself onto her horse, a barely noticeable curve passing over her lips.
“What, no more reflections on life?”
“Reflecting on life is a bard’s job. I’m a mage. My time is measured in seconds, and every second is worth its weight in gold.”
“Then hurry up, my great mage.”
The two fine horses reared forward, breaking the silence of the wasteland. The two rode side by side toward the distant horizon, leaving that bleak snowy plain and that lonely mound of earth completely behind them. Since they had already walked out of it, there was no need to ever look back again.
...
Morning in Winter City. The moment Sylvia stepped into the Governor’s office, she was swallowed by a white ocean.
Documents.
Piles and piles of documents.
The mess in Whiteport might have been settled by force, but what remained—administrative handovers, tax restructuring, personnel transfers—every last one of them required the signature and seal of the highest governor, Sylvia.
Looking at the mountain of paperwork that nearly reached the ceiling, Sylvia’s face, which had still held a trace of color a moment before, darkened instantly.
She turned to look at the man who was just about to slip away.
“Logaris.”
Her voice was not loud, but it carried enough killing intent to freeze the air.
The foot Logaris had not yet stepped over the threshold with stopped stiffly in midair. He adjusted his glasses and turned back with an utterly standard, professional fake smile.
“Your Highness, what are your orders?”
“You’re just leaving like this?” Sylvia pointed at the towering paper mountain on the desk, enough to bury a person alive. “As Chief Advisor, don’t you think you should share some of this burden?”
“You said it yourself. I’m an advisor.” Logaris spread his hands with perfect confidence. “An advisor’s job is to give suggestions, not do hard labor. As for how to deal with these documents, my suggestion is—work overtime. Do your best. I believe in you.”
The moment he finished, he did not even give Sylvia a chance to draw her sword. He directly activated a Short-Range Blink, vanishing with both body and shadow in an instant at the far end of the corridor.
Leaving Sylvia alone in the office, her knuckles cracking loudly from how hard she was clenching her fists.
...
Having escaped “overtime hell,” Logaris was in quite a good mood.
Humming some tune no one had ever heard of, he leisurely made his way back to the research institute in the north of the city.
The moment he entered, he ran into Aaron, who was wearing two enormous dark circles under his eyes.
The poor boy looked pitiful beyond words. His hair was such a mess it resembled a bird’s nest, and he was clutching a huge stack of blueprints. He drifted as he walked, as if he might ascend to heaven on the spot at any moment.
“P-Professor?” Seeing Logaris, a glimmer of light finally appeared in Aaron’s lifeless eyes. “You’re finally back! There’s a bug in the second-stage cooling structure of the internal combustion engine, and also—”
“Stop.”
Logaris raised a hand and cut him off. “Aaron, young people need to develop the ability to solve problems independently. I’m the professor. My job is to point out the direction. Your job is to pave the road.”
Aaron’s mouth twitched.
Translated, that meant: Don’t bother me. Figure it out yourself.
“How is the Magitech Academy coming along?” Logaris asked casually as he walked toward his private laboratory.
At that, Aaron perked up. He pulled a report from beneath the heap of blueprints and handed it over.
“The progress is very fast. With material support from the Golden Griffon Merchant Guild, the main structure of Phase One has already been completed. The first batch of selected students have all signed confidentiality agreements and are now undergoing pre-service training.”