Arsene was lying in bed, thinking about her, until the two kids interrupted his thoughts. Maybe Mary doesnât know. The secret of the garden where the flowers change every day. He chuckled to himself at the thought of her strolling through the garden with Demimore, unaware of the secret of the flowers that change every day.
It was pretty cute to see Mary and Demimore tease each other.
He wondered if this is what an older brother feels while watching his younger siblings fight.
Until she spoke up
âI donât want any more people to be harmed by him.â
Her parents had also tragically lost their lives at the hands of the God of Death.
How could he love the daughter of those he considered as insignificant as flies. Arsene thought it was a terrible piece of karma from the God of Death.
The thought of taking her, who was left alone in the corner of the temple after losing her parents, was just a momentary sympathy.
A child who lost her parents like that might be used for the spell of the god of death again.
Arsene took her out of the God of deathâs territory, and it was the God of earth who picked her up.
The God of earth gave her life, and she went to the temple closest to the sky and became a saint.
Called the Daughter of the God of Earth, she prayed for the good fortune of the continent.
It was Arsene who taught her how to pray, calling her the Saint of Prosperity.
Because he had brought her here, Arsene almost took care of her as if she was entrusted to him.
It was said that Aresene had brought her here because he missed his human mother.
His mother, who he canât even remember the face, had nothing to do with it. Rather than that he felt more pity and sorry for her.
Even so, as a child who was brought here, the girl was nothing more than a little one who could be a nuisance at most until she grew up to his waist.
âAh!â
âArsene, are you okay?â
The pale-faced woman heard Arseneâs groan and came closer, more surprised than he was. She made a fuss and took Arseneâs index finger.
As it was summer, she said she wanted to decorate the area around the temple with red roses, and she got them by praying to the god of the earth.
While touching the rose without thinking, Arsene was stabbed by a rough thorn.
âItâs okay, Itâll heal soon.â
Feeling embarrassed that a child so much smaller than him was looking at his wound with a face that looked like she was about to cry, Arsene took his index finger out of her tiny hand and hid it behind his back.
Her cheeks flushed as she watched his behavior.
But Arseneâs words were not false. Even if he couldnât match the resilience of a god, a wound like this would heal quickly.
âIt still hurts, doesnât it?â
âIt hurts, butâ¦â¦. Itâs okay. You should be careful with roses, too. The thorns are sharper than they look. Oh, and if youâre going to grow flowers, wouldnât it be better to plant something else? Iâm going to help too.â
âArsene, you got pricked by a thorn and said, âAh!'â
Arsene looked into the eyes of the child, who was mimicking the sound he had made when he was pricked by the thorn.
Her eyes were filled with concern for him. It felt awkward to receive this kind of concern just because he got pricked by a rose thorn.
Even his own father had been more inclined to urge Arsene to heal faster, rather than to worry if he came back with a wound.
âWell, Itâs almost healed now, isnât it? Even normal humans donât think a wound like this is a big deal.â
Bending his waist, Arsene showed his index finger to the girl to assure her. The worry in her eyes seemed to fade a bit.
But the relief was soon replaced by a ferocious glare.
Her eyes, which were still curled up at the corners, looked like those of an angry cat.
She doesnât usually get angry, so it was refreshing to see her with this expression on her face.
âStill, you canât get hurt! Be careful!â
âOh, okay.â
The child who had warned him so harshly turned around. For some reason, it looked like he could see a tail with fur sticking out.
Arsene felt like laughing uncontrollably, but he held it in. She had always been a child with many worries and adorable.
âWhat are you doing?â
As he watched her engraving symbols on a stone and set it up around the village as if possessed, Arsene felt fear for the first time since he met her.
As the son of a god, Arsene could see these spell patterns, but they would be invisible to ordinary people.
It was an ability granted to her by the God of the Earth, an ability that was essential as the Saint of Prosperity, who tended the temple closest to the sky.
âSo that he canât come inâ¦.â
He will find me again. Her words seemed as if she were talking to herself rather than answering Arseneâs question.
He watched her from afar, unable to stop her, unable to help her.
When she learned that her parents, whom she thought had abandoned her, had been killed by a prank by the God of Death, she began to avoid him, but he became madly obsessed with her.
He even went so far as to use anyone who happened to have a relationship with her as his sacrifice.
Arsene could only curse the God of death for destroying such a beautiful and loving child.
In the end, she closed her eyes, taking back the breath that the God of earth she loved so dearly had given her.
And thatâs not all. She went through pains she should never have experienced, even after being reborn on the stars under the domain of the god of earth. And after enduring all that, she finally returned to this placeâ¦.
âDamn itâ
Perhaps the gods watching her thought that the god of deathâs obsession with her completely disappeared at this point.
But their judgment was just terrible arrogance. The God of Deathâs unwavering obsession with her did not disappear, instead it kept growing like a madman.
He hoped that here, in this place where her past self was protecting her, Mary would realize something.
Mary still felt more awkward than happy to see her picture in charms that here people carry. He didnât want Mary to hate her.
He didnât want her to think that her past self had ruined her life. Because she did her best in this, too.
The garden was her gift to her future self, an atonement.
âArsene!â
As Arseneâs eyes were about to tear up thinking about her and Mary, then someone banged on the door calling his name. It was Mary.
Did you come here to take Demimore home? She said she would give him time to think, but she came back in a hurry before he even thought about the real problem.
Arsene roughly wiped his eyes with his palm and opened the door.
âYouâre here already?â
His voice sounded a little cracked. Arsene looked at the children under his gaze.
Demimore had a proud but somehow wistful expression as if he thought of something goodâ¦. Mary was just looking at him with sparkling eyes, holding her fist.
What is it? Did they come up with another good idea?
The look on their faces told him he didnât need to ask why, and he leaned his head against the wall to listen.
âJust tell me the conclusion.â
âLetâs go home!â
âUm, no. Why donât you explain it properly?â
Sensing that this was going to be a long story, Arsene led them into the house.
It had been quite some time since they came here, but Mary, who was seeing Arseneâs house for the first time, looked around with wide eyes.
Demimore flopped into a chair as if he was not interested.
âWhy is heâ¦â
If Mary goes home, wouldnât that be the best for him? He doesnât understand why he feels subtly uneasy.
They had tea at Maryâs house earlier, but thinking that the story might take long he went to the kitchen but she hugged his waist and said.
âWe have to go home and get some laminaicho!â
âLaminaicho?â
He turned around and tried to check Maryâs face holding his waist, but the small hand wrapped around his waist disappeared.
Instead, he saw Mary smiling brightly in Demimoreâs arms, who was very wary of him.
He was sitting there, when did he come and take her off in such a hurry⦠Now that he thought about it, what he felt earlier was not an older brother sentimentâ¦â¦.
âA father-in-lawâs feelings?â
Demimoreâs eyebrows went up, perhaps because Arsene, who snorted, got on his nerves again.
Arsen didnât really want to pay attention to Demimoreâs mood, but he urged Mary for an answer, thinking that if he didnât, Demimoreâs eyebrows might not come down again.
âWhy laminaicho?â
âDemimore said it was an herb that blooms in the season of death.â
Arsene knew about Laminaicho.
A magical herb that sprouted in winter on branches that had lost all their leaves and were now gray and devoid of color. It blooms in the season of death.
But the look on Arseneâs face when he asked why she was suddenly looking for it made Maryâs chest tighten with frustration.
âThink about it. The god of death uses âsimilarâ. So why donât we use the opposite?â