Chapter 07

The elderly butler was so shocked at nearly losing his young master right after conducting the previous master’s funeral that he wouldn’t let Ian get out of bed until hearing the doctor say he was fine.

‘Is all this really necessary?’

Ian thought, but… with his whole body aching and no strength in his limbs, he couldn’t say anything and lay there helplessly. His body seemed shocked from being submerged in the black swamp for so long.

The doctor was a thin, taciturn old man whom Ian had briefly seen beside them when confirming the previous family head’s death. He was said to live alone in an isolated house somewhat closer to the village than to the manor. The manor staff usually called him ‘Doctor’ or ‘Doctor Sir.’

While the doctor was examining Ian, Clayton whispered beside him, wiping away mud stains that hadn’t been completely cleaned from around his ears.

“That gentleman’s name is Dr. Jace Sutton.”

Dr. Sutton had pulled his coal-streaked white hair back and twisted it up into a tiny bun, and possessed cold hands that seemed made only of leather and bone. During examination, he held a stethoscope to check Ian’s chest and back, showing the dim, distant gaze typical of the elderly as he seemed lost in thought, staring into empty space.

Just when Ian was getting restless wanting to move, the doctor withdrew his hands, wiped them with a silk handkerchief, and said:

“You must remain lying down until I say you’re fine.”

While trapped in bed like a child with a cold during this restless period, Ash came to visit his room every day. When Ian first opened his eyes and Ash apologized with tears filling his violet-like eyes, Ian had hugged him tight and said it was okay, but seeing the child still unable to rest and asking to be given something to do, Ian fell into brief contemplation.

‘Clayton and the servants are already caring for me more than enough. They make me lie down immediately even if I just sit up for a moment… Is there something simple this tiny kid could help with?’

Turning the question over in his head, he said:

“How about reading me some books? I’m having trouble reading since I can’t sit up.”

At those words, Ash’s face reddened and he hung his head low. Standing there with drooping shoulders as if not knowing what to do, he finally spoke in a very small voice.

“…I can’t read books very well.”

Ian felt briefly puzzled. Though he wasn’t sure, shouldn’t a high-ranking household pay attention to a child’s education? Unable to tell if this was neglect or normal, and not knowing how Ash might take it, he quickly answered as if it were nothing.

“It’s fine. I’ll help you with any words you can’t read.”

“Still…”

Ash couldn’t lift his head and hesitated. Ian deliberately spoke in a lighter voice:

“Please. Let’s try once, and if it’s too hard, we’ll stop.”

Ian himself needed to read some books to build up knowledge of this world, and he thought it wouldn’t be a bad decision for Ash’s education either. The child looked down at the floor without saying anything for a long time, seeming to ponder, then nodded slightly. At that sight, Ian grinned.

‘He listens well and is adorably cute.’

They decided to get Clayton’s help in choosing books. Ian pulled the long cord hanging beside his bed. Not long after, there was a knock. Clayton, who entered the room, greeted Ash and Ian alternately.

When asked if he could bring some books suitable for children from the study, Clayton, who had briefly disappeared, returned with a single thin book.

“If the young master will be reading, a fairy tale book would be good. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

The book Clayton brought was a fairy tale about gods. Ash, sitting in front of the bed with a bright red face, stumblingly read through the thin book that had woodcuts on one side of each page.

Long, long ago, there was nothing in the world, only writhing chaos in black masses. Chaos that writhed and collided endlessly, unable to maintain any fixed form—from within it, two gods born by chance as light and darkness wandered, trying to stop this chaos that had birthed them.

The two gods finally met at the center of the great chaos a being similar to themselves yet cold and willful—the god of chaos. Knowing the chaos god had no intention of stopping, the two gods devised a plan. The god of light sang and danced to lower its guard, and chaos, tasting the sweet wine the god of darkness had brewed during their travels, fell asleep. For the first time, chaos stopped and hardened.

The two gods, who gathered the massive body of chaos to create all things in this world, came to share day and night amicably as they watched over the world.

As the last page turned with an illustration of the two gods smiling, the child—whose small fingertips had turned white from gripping so tightly that fingerprints and wrinkles appeared on the pages—quickly closed the book lest he be caught. Then he glanced at Ian’s face.

Though it was a thin book, it had taken a long time due to stumbling, and there were parts he’d read incorrectly with wrong words. Seeming troubled by this as the child’s gaze fell to the floor again, Ian spoke up:

“Your voice is pleasant to listen to.”

At those words, Ash lifted his head. His small open mouth and wide eyes were so cute that Ian smiled softly. Though he’d stumbled quite a bit, his clear voice that hadn’t yet gone through puberty was pleasant to hear. And since it was a story Ian had never heard before, it was also interesting, so he continued in a voice filled with sincerity:

“I was bored lying still unable to leave the bed because I felt unwell, but thanks to you it was nice. Could you read to me again tomorrow?”

At those words, the child quickly nodded his small head. Whether he wanted to push Ian away or draw his attention—his face, difficult to read due to limited expression, brightened and clearly showed joy. Seeing this, Ian’s heart also brightened as if infected.

“Could you perhaps read other books too?”

The child showed his eager feelings through action. As soon as the words ended, the child who had rushed out of the room returned to the bedside with an armful of thin books, breathing hard with a flushed face. The child’s usually pale cheeks, reddened like apples from running, looked much healthier.

Initially he’d pulled over a chair from the room to sit, but gradually their distance shortened until Ash was sitting perched beside Ian, reading together. The perceptive Clayton brought their meals on a large tray so they could eat in the room.

Ash’s meal was a regular portion, not very large considering he ate as little as bird seed, while Ian’s was invalid food like porridge with hardly any solid pieces. Ash would crumble the food on his plate into small pieces and nibble at it, but perhaps stimulated by seeing Ian not put down his spoon and finish every bit of his meal, he quickly moved his hands to earnestly bring his portion to his mouth.

Ian couldn’t ignore the child’s efforts. Setting the finished dishes on the tray, he acknowledged Ash:

“You finished everything cleanly?”

At Ian’s words, the child hung his head, but Ian could see his mouth corners turn up. Ian found this sight admirable, but perhaps from seeing his young cousins act willfully rather than reading adults’ moods, somehow the child’s behavior of trying hard to please him seemed pitiful.

Spending similar daily routines like this, a week passed, and finally Dr. Sutton nodded toward the butler with his usual expression. Thanks to this, Ian was finally able to leave his bed.

Though it had only been a week, the reading practice had good effects—Ash could now read almost without stumbling. He only paused occasionally when there were difficult words. It was rapid change, like a long-neglected seed quickly taking root when placed somewhere moist.

Ash, who came into the room carrying books at the same time, widened his eyes seeing Ian outside the bed adjusting his appearance.

“I don’t have to lie in bed anymore. Thank you for everything.”

“…Congratulations.”

Hearing Ian’s words, Ash hugged his book tightly and nodded. Though it was certainly welcome news, he didn’t look particularly bright, perhaps regretting that their time rolling around on the bed reading together would disappear.

“It’s fine anytime, so please read to me again when you have time.”

At these words spoken from a sympathetic heart, Ash slowly nodded with a face where the regret hadn’t completely faded.

After patting the child’s thin back, Ian headed to the study for the first time in a while. During his time lying in bed, he hadn’t properly looked at the documents the lawyer had delivered. Clayton had said he’d handled simple matters, but there were things Ian needed to check directly.

The study, which he hadn’t entered for several days, was clean from the servants’ touch. Interestingly, he noticed several books missing from the bookshelf at a height Ash could reach.

Ian chuckled softly, then sat at the desk and calmly organized his thoughts. Though there had been a slight accident, the past few days had been so peaceful he’d almost forgotten he’d transmigrated into a game. The system had been quiet since the ‘Free Branch activation.’

Checking the entire manor map was the priority. There were still some places in the manor he hadn’t confirmed. He’d gone up to the third-floor corridor, but seeing a servant cleaning the corridor bow and step aside made him feel awkward, so he’d told them to continue their work and hurried downstairs.

Even though he was supposedly the manor master, he felt self-conscious about disturbing the servants working throughout.

‘Should I secretly check some places at night instead?’

While briefly lost in such thoughts, suddenly there was a tapping sound at the window. Looking around, he discovered nothing else and the sound didn’t continue. Just as he was about to finish his thoughts, tap, tap, tap sounds came. It was the sound of something sharp-edged tapping the glass window.

He got up and carefully approached where the sound was coming from. And he met eyes with a crow pressing its gray beak against the study’s glass window.

In its jet-black bead-like eyes where no whites showed, the surrounding scenery reflected without filter. The crow, which had spread its wings to puff up its body then folded them again, opened wide the beak it had been pressing against the glass. Ian could see inside the crow’s black mouth.

[Mortal being…]

A strange voice ambiguous in gender, like scraping metal, flowed from the crow’s beak. Ian moved closer to the glass window. And he tapped the glass between him and the crow with his fingertips—tap, tap, tap.

“This one’s not afraid of people?”

[Can you not hear my words?]

Ian, who could only hear the crow’s voice as ordinary cawing like before, soon turned around. Having often seen curious crows’ behaviors in internet videos, he figured it was playing against the glass. Or perhaps it was curious about human behavior.

On one hand, he was also concerned since it was a wild animal and he didn’t know what sudden actions it might take. But as the crow persistently wouldn’t stop tapping the glass with its beak, Ian tilted his head. Thinking perhaps it was hungry, when Ian carefully approached, the crow stepped back.

When he opened the window and placed a fairly large piece from the cookie fragments that had come as snacks on the outer windowsill, the crow tilted its small head curiously. After leaving it there and closing the window, when he looked back, the crow had already disappeared.

Of course, the cookie fragment that had been on the windowsill was also gone.