How to Save a Time-Limited Heroine

Deltain’s gaze sank.

His eyes were fixed on Agnes’ face, and various thoughts were passing through his mind.

It was contemplation. The kind he used to do quite often when he was still a doctor, a process to build empathy with patients.

The habit he developed through training to overcome his weakness of not having a good sense of empathy remained.

‘Why…’

Why did she want to dance? What did dancing mean to her?

What kind of thoughts had she been having throughout this banquet, and what kind of impact did this have on her?

Deltain wanted to delve into what he knew about Agnes Levadine’s nature, life, and desires.

But as always, she was too sly, and he couldn’t figure out much.

The answer Deltain came up with after a long contemplation was this.

“…  just one song. After we do this, we’ll really leave.”

As always, an answer that maintained an appropriate distance.

Agnes’ smile brightened.

It was a beauty that could almost be called violent.

“Okay.”

As Deltain stood up, the scene naturally formed where he was looking down at Agnes. He felt awkward looking at her face, so he deliberately looked away.

His gaze turned to the hall, a place to dance. Somewhere in a corner, they could just match a bit and leave.

“Let’s go.”

As he said so and moved his feet, murmurs arose throughout the banquet hall.

Agnes giggled.

“They find it fascinating that you’re dancing.”

“It’s not me, it’s fascinating because you’re dancing. And can’t you see? The looks towards me are filled with awe. Awe at the fact that even you could be cured to dance.”

“Are you boasting?”

“I’m just stating a fact.”

Even as they whispered, they continued to move forward.

Those who were in front of their path naturally stepped aside as if it were the right thing to do.

It was a path leading to the center of the hall.

“We’re the main characters.”

“When you flatter too much, things like this happen.”

Deltain’s expression was of annoyance.

He thought there was no reason to go to the very center and dance.

Of course, Agnes thought differently.

She didn’t stop walking until she reached the very center of the hall.

“Being the center of attention. I think it’s quite nice.”

“You’ll soon get sick of it. Having eyes follow you is a nuisance.”

“We’ll see.”

The two stood at the center of the stage.

“Do you know how to dance?”

“Yeah, I learned when I was young.”

“So, you don’t know.”

“I do know.”

“You can’t master it with just theoretical knowledge. Dancing isn’t like that.”

“By that logic, you don’t dance either.”

“I’ve danced before.”

To be exact, it was before he fell into this world.

The hospital where Deltain worked used to hold a large charity party every year-end, and Deltain had danced a few times to socialize with sponsors.

Agnes’ expression turned subtle.

“With whom?”

“Sponsors.”

“Hmm.”

Agnes made a sound as if she was thinking about something, but she didn’t ask any more questions.

Deltain, as if he had no interest in her reaction, immediately placed his hand on her waist.

It was the basic posture of a waltz.

The disparity between a waltz to a jazz tune was still unfamiliar to Deltain, but then again, it couldn’t be helped. This was a different world from Earth. Even if there was music of a similar context, it was natural for its occurrence, origin, and development direction to differ.

‘Jazz wasn’t this slow of a song.’

Jazz on Earth was an upbeat form of music played with trumpets and cellos. The dance moves were just as intense.

However, the jazz here, despite the composition of the instruments, was flowing in a rather slow and static form.

No matter how much he thought about it, he wasn’t used to it.

Deltain, thinking that way, opened his mouth.

“Just roughly match your steps.”

“Can I step on your feet?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll make mistakes.”

“You rotten bitch.”

Agnes smiled and placed her left hand on Deltain’s shoulder. Her right hand was clasped with his.

A faint sound marked the beat.

And then, their footsteps began.

In the center of the banquet hall, as the two slowly matched their steps and moved, the other sounds gradually died down. Someone let out a sigh as they watched the man and woman looking at each other with slow movements.

It was as if only that spot was isolated in a different world. Those present had such thoughts.

The enchanting smile of a woman resembling a spring flower and the indifferent face of a man resembling a wildflower had such a picturesque aspect. The fluttering of the white and pink dress mixed with the black tailcoat leading that movement looked like a mirage existing only in someone’s imagination.

It was such a beautiful and captivating scene that the faces of the young men and women watching them had a dreamy glow.

A question naturally arose in their minds.

What words were being uttered from their lips right now? What kind of sweet words were they exchanging in whispers hidden by the music?

For them, it was merely an imagination conjured through the visible scene, a fantasy far from reality.

“I told you not to step on my feet.”

Deltain and Agnes were not in a romantic relationship.

“A mistake.”

“Bullshit. It wasn’t a mistake; it was intentional. Do you think I wouldn’t know that?”

“You have excessive self-consciousness.”

Their conversation, hidden by the music, was aggressive.

There was not a hint of sweetness in their whispers to each other.

Only the nasty pranks and the anger at them were present.

Deltain frowned slightly.

“Did you suggest dancing for this?”

“No, I just wanted to be close to you.”

“You say everything except confessing, huh? You have nothing you can’t say.”

“Because confession is something you should do. I’ll settle for everything else.”

Deltain grimaced as if he found her annoying.

Agnes’ face became even more satisfied.

“Do you know? I like it best when I can see you up close like this. I can see every little change in your expression.”

“You’re the opposite of me. I hate getting close to you.”

“Because I’m too pretty?”

“Because your smiling face annoys me.”

“That’s harsh.”

Even so, Agnes didn’t take her eyes off Deltain. She persistently gazed into his golden eyes.

It was enough to make Deltain feel uneasy.

But turning his head would hurt his pride. It would feel like admitting defeat.

Deltain glared irritably at her cherry blossom-colored eyes.

At that moment, the music changed.

The position where the woman took the man’s hand and spun in place.

It wasn’t a difficult move, something even Agnes could do.

Deltain raised his hand, and Agnes carefully spun under it, then settled back into his arms.

“How was it?”

“What?”

“Didn’t I do well?”

“Because I led you well.”

“Give me a compliment.”

The slow tempo resumed.

As Agnes moved slowly, she waited for Deltain’s response.

It was a tension she rather enjoyed.

Agnes focused on what was being conveyed.

The banquet hall was warm, the ceiling high, and the atmosphere refreshing.

The rhythm and murmuring mixed beneath the melody, and the gathered gazes provided a different kind of commotion from the usual silence of her bedroom.

It was a novel stimulus. Though it didn’t leave a deep impression, it was enough to provide a moment of excitement.

“The compliment?”

“You did well. Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

Agnes thought.

Maybe the reason these things felt so vivid was because the one she was with was Deltain Hebron.

It was the excitement of knowing that today would be etched into his memories.

“You were my first dance partner, too.”

“So what?”

“I was just thinking that Deltain Hebron might be more of a hunter than a demon hunter.”

What she sought was, of course, his memories and emotions.

That was also why she said such outrageous things.

So, the reaction that followed was surprising.

For a moment, Agnes felt as if the world was slowing down.

“Hah…”

Deltain laughed. It was a face Agnes had never seen before.

The softening of his expression imprinted itself vividly on her retina.

His usually furrowed brow softened, and the tension around his eyes disappeared, replaced by a gentle warmth.

Thump.

Her heart pounded loudly.

“That was kind of funny.”

The expression he had lost to an absurd remark returned.

But even though it was only a brief moment, it felt like an eternity to Agnes.

Her cherry blossom-colored pupils trembled slightly.

She began an unconscious action. Her mind started chasing the smile that had just appeared on Deltain’s face.

A yearning, much like someone chasing a mirage, settled in her gaze.

But it didn’t last long.

The moment she lost focus, Agnes’ step faltered slightly.

The heel of her shoe stepped on Deltain’s foot.

Deltain’s face twisted in pain.

“Hey.”

“Oh…”

A sigh.

That was the name of the breath that escaped her lips.

Agnes, who had regretted not being able to savor the smile fully, belatedly became flustered.

A tightening sensation arose in her chest. Doubts and fear welled up from the emotions she had just felt.

Agnes quickly turned away from them.

‘Heart.’

She judged that her heart was simply overexerted.

“… Deltain. We’ve been dancing for a while. I’m feeling a bit dizzy.”

“What? You should’ve said something earlier…!”

Deltain sighed and slowly stopped moving.

He then led Agnes out of the center of the room.

Agnes, until that moment, struggled to compose her expression.

Her thoughts once again tried to ignore the emotions that had crept in.

Of course, she didn’t realize that doing so wouldn’t solve anything.

The dry emotions within her began to find nourishment.

*

The banquet ended like that.

As soon as the music stopped, Deltain escorted Agnes out of the banquet hall, checked on her, and sent her back without finding anything unusual.

The next day arrived.

“Count, a letter has arrived.”

Deltain awoke to the voice of Gerhart, who was waking him up.

His golden eyes, still sleepy, turned to the old butler.

His voice was groggy.

“… a letter?”

“It’s from Marquis Montbert.”

“Oh.”

Information about No. 3.

Deltain realized and rubbed his face.

“Leave it there and prepare my breakfast. A sandwich.”

“Yes.”

As soon as Gerhart left, Deltain undressed and headed to the shower.

After finishing with a cold shower that jolted him awake, he put on fresh clothes.

He picked up the letter from the shelf and headed to his study, his face considerably brighter.

‘They called it a legend of the barbarians, didn’t they?’

If it was the barbarians, they must be the natives of the northern snowfields.

Even in this era of advanced magical engineering and civilization, these people lived while preserving the heritages of the olden days.

Though there was a chance it could be superstition, it was low.

Marquis Montbert wouldn’t bring baseless information.

A sense of hope began to rise within him.

On the desk in his study was a sandwich without pickles.

Deltain picked it up, took a bite, and opened the letter.

[Legend – The Spirit That Measures Winter.]

Deltain’s eyes sparkled.