NOVEL NEXT Chapter 382
The last day of Memorial Day week.
Winterhome was, as always, noisy with the commotion of a dinner hosted by the Felwinter Family.
Despite feasting for several days, the mountain of barbecued food and various drinks continued to disappear as everyone danced and chatted away.
The same scene unfolding every evening since the first day of Memorial Day week was starting to become wearisome. It was loud.
However, there was one notable difference from the previous dinners.
Firstly, the dinner was set up in an outdoor area rather than the Great Hall.
And in the center of the vast open space with numerous tables…
Whoosh───!
A colossal campfire roared to life, even bigger than the one at Wintersend during the Coming-of-Age Ceremony. No, it seemed to be larger now.
Guests were tossing leftover bones and turnip lanterns into the blazing flames.
Honestly, at a glance, it looked like some wicked shamanistic spell and felt a bit eerie.
Why was it scary, you ask? The flames erupting from the charred eyes and mouth of the turnip lanterns were quite unsettling.
Occasionally, blue flames flared up, possibly due to the bones, evoking the fiery wrath of vengeful souls.
Karem, who had little tolerance for horror films, flinched each time.
Fortunately, the bizarre sights surrounding the campfire helped to ease the spooky atmosphere significantly.
“Hey! Keep the rhythm! Stay in time!”
“One! Two! Three! Four! Two! Two! Three—”
“Take a beat off, take two beats off—”
“Looks like your dancing skills have improved quite a bit!”
“Now it’s your turn! Come on, don’t back out!”
The bard’s dissonant melodies tangled together into a delightful cacophony, prompting people to dance.
As they twirled their arms, legs, and occasionally their entire bodies around the campfire, it was clear that while women were acceptable, even muscular or pot-bellied men joined in, making it quite the raucous party.
Whoosh─! Bang──!
“Hey! Who threw that?!”
“Watch where you’re aiming!”
“Damn it! Get over here! You can’t escape!”
In the midst of it all, turnip lanterns and bone fragments were tossed into the campfire.
Sometimes, a misplaced throw would strike a dancer and incite a brawl right on the spot.
But thankfully, even in their drunken state, no one was crass enough to stuff someone’s head into the fire.
“Some of them are doing it intentionally. They inflate their joy to forcibly mask their sadness. So the departed can leave knowing the remaining ones are at ease.”
“Elder Iona, it looks like someone just broke a bone over there.”
“Oh, what’s a broken bone or two?”
No, a broken bone was indeed a serious matter.
Yet, Iona, who casually brushed it off as nothing, returned to her seat with a large plate of ribs.
Was everyone else indifferent? As a person with a broken leg was dragged to an impromptu triage area, no one seemed to care.
“Is this really okay?”
“Getting a broken bone in a festival fight is pretty common.”
Catherine appeared to feel the same way, as she watched Alicia and Olivier tumble around the campfire without a care.
“We have potions, and the Priestesses are on standby at the triage, too.”
Borrowing divine power for such trivial reasons.
“Is it really acceptable?”
“Hah.”
Catherine, separating the bones from the succulent meat of the white ribs, raised an eyebrow as if to say Mary had no right to speak.
“Is someone who’s using divine power freely to make ice cream or drink cold cola the one to ask that?”
“Well, I guess that’s true.”
How cowardly of you to hit the nail on the head.
However, Karem couldn’t deny that fact. He couldn’t give up the convenience of chilled beer and cola, nor the ease of instant cooling using divine power.
Humans are creatures of convenience.
Once someone adapts to comfort, they can never go back. Karem, for one, found it hard to imagine life without Mary. Catherine likely felt the same.
How could anyone give up a multi-functional cleaning fairy that would handle chores like cleaning, washing, and dishwashing on its own if left unattended?
If only there were no attempts to invade dark domains.
“Heh. It brings me great joy to see my junior Karem acknowledge my convenience.”
Mary nodded and dabbed barbecue sauce from the corner of Catherine’s mouth with a napkin.
“Then I must ask again—”
“Don’t test the waters.”
“Karem, how about accepting it soon?”
“What would I have to admit to?”
“Isn’t the idea of offloading all your work to me growing stronger in your heart?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why not? You should start completely entrusting everything to me while you enjoy a hot, cozy time with your contractor, hmm—”
“Haha, stop right there! There are things to say and not to say outdoors!”
“Ha! So you concede?”
“Eat this and serve Catherine!”
Swoosh—the large piece of cheesecake landed on the table, and Mary sulked as she gobbled it up. Karem glanced around, thankful that no one seemed to suspect anything.
“Swallow—then I’ll stop here.”
“…That’s odd. Why am I buying this so quickly?”
“Of course, it’s because the contractor is giving you that warning look.”
Indeed, he felt a sharp gaze near him, as if they were telling him to settle the commotion now.
Thinking back, it was loud all around. Eating, drinking, dancing, and fighting; it seemed no one could hear—
“My, how nice it is to be lively, isn’t it?”
Princess Elizabeth, who had sighed at the scene, couldn’t agree.
“They should be just like that at that age.”
“Mother. But what about the dignity of nobility—”
“It’s better than being a wilted mess without energy.”
With such a shockingly heavy reasoning aired, Elizabeth fell silent, and Rosetta smiled broadly.
“Mother, you’re being too harsh.”
Alfred, who had washed his hands in a basin, dried them with a napkin.
“Elie, no need to worry about that.”
“Besides, look at how different it is now. You must have gone through a lot.”
Having seen Wintersend numerous times since her death, it was still different from what she had experienced. No one forced joy, even if they had to borrow the spirit of the drink.
The naturally laid-back atmosphere created a natural festive mood. Alfred’s efforts to change Iceland.
“But, mother.”
“What is it?”
“Weren’t you hiding so others wouldn’t see you?”
“You cheeky one. I’m being serious here.”
Rosetta responded lightly with a nod.
“I’m only letting those who know this fact see.”
“Is it really that easy to control?”
Godwin, immersed in the barbecue, interjected when he heard.
“How much do you think I’ve lived as a ghost?”
Though her true appearance had been limited to Memorial Day, it had been no short span of time. It was like the say someone saw a ghost in a deserted house, and no one else had ever seen it.
Even if someone asked if it bothered her to speak, others would merely see Alfred and Elizabeth conversing.
Not Rosetta, who stood between them.
“Thus, there’s no need to worry. Just imagine the fright if a dead person suddenly shows up. There are still dozens of people here who know my face.”
They would know. Just like Iona, who seemed confused, clashing with the divine forces or throwing weapons around.
So there was no room for mistakes.
“Moreover, the week is coming to an end, right? Now that I’m showing my face, I should be with my family until the end.”
“But only father is absent.”
“Yes, I’ve already died, but I never would have imagined I wouldn’t show my face even once after dying.”
Rosetta harbored considerable resentment over not having revealed her face for the past decades.
Alfred absently cradled his head, suspecting she was holding a previous grudge regarding her ghost act.
“Father, why not come to the tomb once instead of just showing up for Alicia?”
Richard’s sporadic visits were merely motivated by a desire to see Alicia.
Had Richard ever considered dropping by the tomb, assuming he’d left easily because he had already died? …It was too late now. Rosetta’s resentment matched her affection for her husband.
And Alicia was furious.
“Dance! How dare you run away from Alicia!!!”
She was angry at the three who fled into the tower, shaking her fist.
*
*
*
Even though it was late, Catherine, perhaps still awake, stretched on the rooftop of the Mage Tower.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“You can go ahead and sleep if you want.”
“I was just trying to avoid Alicia. I’m not sleepy.”
Karem leaned against the rooftop edge, joining Catherine.
Behind the dreary sky, the moon was nearing midnight, but perhaps because it was the last day, the heat from the open space showed no sign of cooling.
The campfire had shrunk a little, but flames, diners, and merry dancers spinning around it remained unchanged.
“I guess that old fogey finally wore himself out.”
Seeing Olivier, who had been dancing around the campfire for hours, finally plop down and gulp from a mug was a relief.
“Hope your back’s okay.”
“Who knows? Not my business. More importantly, you’re not feeling sleepy, are you?”
“Right. You?”
Good, so Catherine, stepping away from the rooftop edge, tidied her disheveled attire and assumed a stance.
“What are you staring at?”
“So?”
Sighing deeply, Catherine pointed at the scenery below—the open space—gesturing with her outstretched hand for him to come forward.
“Since it’s come to this, I’ll teach you some basic dance. By the way, no refusals, so hurry up.”
Suddenly, dancing seemed strange.
However, under continued insistence, Karem had no choice but to take Catherine’s extended hand.
The dance Catherine proposed was simple.
Close to each other with one hand on the waist and the other held out.
Just follow the beat of the off-key melodies drifting in the background.
However.
“Ouch.”
“…”
The feet of the teacher and student were in constant conflict.
“You said you were going to teach me how to dance.”
“That’s right.”
“What about this, then?”
Bending down, just then Karem stepped on her foot instead of the empty space nearby.
“Ahem. You think I’m going to dance with anyone? I would’ve danced alone.”
Ah, so she knew how to dance but had never danced with anyone, which was why they kept stepping on each other’s feet. Karem tried to point this out.
“Look at you, too—”
“‘You’ is banned.”
“But you’re stepping all over my feet too!”
“This is practically my first time!”
“Shut it.”
Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! They merely stepped on each other’s feet, fumbling about without matching up.
Yet as the uproar in the open space slowly dwindled, their slips gradually lessened.
“Ouch.”
Though it was still a long way to go.
“That’s my toe.”
“I’m about to crush my own foot, but what are you whimpering for?”
“Should I apply Cure later?”
“…My back’s still not healed.”
“Huh? Where’s that coming from?”
“Ouch!”