By Zephyria 
Hugo didn’t offer any further explanation, lightly brushing back his damp hair. He had suddenly become conscious of whether there were any marks left from where the lion in a kitten’s disguise had bitten his neck. However, Flynn seemed to interpret the gesture as a sign of fatigue and bowed his head with an apologetic “Ah.”
“It’s late, so I shall take my leave now. Please be sure to call me if your headache worsens or if there is anything you need.”
“Right.”
“Ah, and there was something I meant to give you.”
As if remembering something, he paused and half-turned, reaching into his inner pocket. He stood in a direction where the busy movement of his wrist was fully visible to Hugo. It was a rule of the mansion to ensure the Duke could respond immediately even if an assassin disguised as a servant drew a weapon.
Of course, if he didn’t trust Flynn, who could he trust? Still, Hugo watched closely to see what would emerge from his hand.
The object was produced immediately and held out along with both palms. It was a Token.
“I found this while organizing files in the archives of the preliminary match stadium this morning. I thought you might have left it behind.”
With a puzzled expression, Hugo reached out and took the souvenir.
“Oh.”
To think he had left something this important behind. He must have been truly distracted at the time.
“I was preoccupied. Thank you for bringing it.”
“So it did belong to you, Master? I wasn’t sure since you haven’t attended any social gatherings lately… Is it a charm or a commemorative coin? Ah, my apologies.”
Feeling himself ramble, Flynn quickly suppressed his curiosity.
“I meant to just give this to you and go… Please rest well.”
After a polite bow, he approached the door with silent steps.
“And please stop drinking—.”
He finished the sentence on his own, unable to let go of his worried interference until the very end. Hugo let out a small chuckle and gave a slight nod. Then, without answering, he examined the perforated Token from various angles. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he turned his head to speak.
“Come to think of it, Flynn.”
“Yes?”
Flynn, who was halfway out the door, stopped immediately at the soft call. As he turned back with perked ears, Hugo’s lips parted, but he closed them again and shook his head.
“Nothing. Go and rest. We shall speak again tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes. Understood.”
Flynn tilted his head in confusion but didn’t add any further questions. Soon, the faint sound of the door closing echoed. As an extreme silence descended, Hugo finally felt that he was alone.
The edges of the Token, filled with alternating black and white, shimmered softly in the candlelight. Staring at the contrast, Hugo instinctively reached for the Cognac, then stopped. In this state, he felt he was in no position to urge Leonardo to abstain from drinking.
‘I should start cutting back as well.’
Instead, he placed his hand on the bottle and sealed the opening with an ice stopper to prevent the aroma from escaping. He moved the glass and the bottle to one side of the table. Whenever he looked at this Token, he was reminded of a clear, bright face waving shyly from a distance. In those moments, he was overcome by the feeling that he must compose himself to become an adult who could support him.
Of course, such a sense of responsibility wasn’t a bad thing.
Holding the Token between his thumb and index finger, Hugo lightly kissed the number 0 engraved in the center.
Simultaneously, the desk drawer lined up behind him opened on its own. A yellow envelope inside slid out slowly.
Flutter—
The envelope, waving in the air like a carpet, flew toward the sofa where the Duke was sitting. It swayed left and right like a lifeless fallen leaf before gradually lowering its altitude and landing on the table.
It was one of the pieces of evidence brought by Shorendo’s Aide-de-camp during the earlier meeting—a sealed family photo of the Servan Clan. In principle, materials related to cases handled by the agency should not be brought to a private residence, but he didn’t feel he could leave this anywhere in the Council and feel at ease.
Setting the Token down, Hugo picked up the envelope and opened it. He carefully took out the photo inside.
He took a deep breath to steady his heart and gazed quietly at the photo that gave him a strange feeling.
“…….”
Looking down by the light of the candles, his vision took on a distinct yellow hue. Perhaps because of that, the child’s hair, which had looked white, was now dyed an undeniable gold.
Upon seeing it, the headache crept back in. The dull pain suddenly became as sharp as a needle, tightening and stabbing at his head from all sides. Hugo furrowed his brow and pressed the palm of his hand against one eye.
It was certain. Whenever he looked at this photo, an unbearable headache surged, obstructing his thoughts. It was as if something were forcibly trying to control him from remembering.
Strange noise tangled chaotically, stimulating the nerves from his eyeballs to his cerebrum.
But at the same time, memories buried deep within began to leak out from a corner of his mind. No, in truth, it was hard to tell if it was a memory or a delusion… but the shimmering image of a small figure clinging desperately to his collar flickered.
He couldn’t remember specifically when he had seen that figure, where he had met them, or who they were.
The only thing certain was that, within the blurred afterimage, that small being had spoken to him piteously.
‘Please don’t go.’
“Ugh—.”
Along with a pain that felt like it was splitting his brain, his vision went white for a moment, as if a fuse had blown. A low groan escaped Hugo’s teeth. Simultaneously, a gust of wind swept through the room, despite not a single window being open. The four flickering candles were all extinguished, leaving only white smoke to rise bleakly.
“Ugh….”
In the space where only darkness remained, Hugo pressed his palms against his temples as if crushing them.
His head, having reached its limit, throbbed. It was a headache unlike any he had ever felt in his life; he felt as though his skull might actually crack.
‘Why on earth is this happening?’
How long had he been like that? Perhaps the alcohol was finally kicking in, as a drowsiness washed over him, acting as a substitute for a Painkiller. Thanks to that, it was somewhat more bearable than when he had been staring at the photo in the office. It meant that what he had told Flynn wasn’t a complete lie.
“Whew….”
Managing the pain with a deep sigh, Hugo closed and opened his eyes. In the dim vision, he placed the photo back into the envelope and sealed it. As the figures were hidden, the candles, which he thought had died out, reignited. Even though he had done nothing.
With a cold gaze, Hugo stared blankly at the burning wicks.
It was a bizarre phenomenon.
“Is it under some kind of magic?”
In a world full of things that could not be understood by human common sense alone, it wouldn’t be strange for an old piece of magic to be cast on a photo.
However, once his thoughts reached that point, the situation felt only more complicated.
‘During the meeting, to block any suspicion falling on Leonardo, I focused my argument on the fact that the evidence was ineffective. Of course, that isn’t a lie. In Vivian Servan’s statement, there were no clues to specify that the person in the photo was Leonardo other than her own claim.’
In the first place, Leonardo was a man, not a woman, and even if his gender were indistinguishable because it was his childhood, there would be no reason—unless it was a twisted hobby—to let a boy grow his hair long and put him in a dress.
Furthermore, there was no way that Leonardo, who was from Bermuda, and this Clan were truly blood-related family, and even assuming he had been adopted….
‘Then why did they let him enlist as a child soldier?’
Child soldiers at the time were often used for menial chores in the military or as cannon fodder for dangerous operations. While the Servan Clan was not a long-standing noble house, they belonged to a group of wealthy individuals who had once tried to gain the favor of the Imperial Faction by investing massive amounts of capital.
Therefore, there should have been no need to raise petty cash by selling a child to the military.
‘Nor would they have tried to raise a child so frail that their gender was confusing as a soldier. Even if they knew his potential, a skilled Mage doesn’t necessarily need to be a soldier.’
But setting all that aside, Hugo couldn’t shake the feeling that the child in the photo was Leonardo in his childhood, and that he had met the past version of him.
The afterimage he had glimpsed at Fidèle’s hut was the same. Who on earth was holding onto him, telling him not to go, and why did the same afterimage appear upon seeing that photo? Everything was incomprehensible.
Normally, in a situation like this, he would carefully design the direction of the investigation and create a schematic, but unfortunately, Hugo didn’t have the capacity for that right now.
He impulsively bolted upright. He approached the side table by the window, unlocked it, and took out a communication Magic Tool.
Since it was paired with only one device, there was no need to deliberate over whom to contact.
After hesitating for a moment, Hugo pressed the button and waited for the monotonous signal tones to ring a few times.
Every time he contacted him, this short moment felt like an eternity.
In that instant, the signal stopped, and a sound announcing the connection was heard.
—Hugo?