The Female Lead Takes Care of Everything - Chapter 37

Nivellia tried over and over to copy the soccer moves Aref had shown her, but she failed every time.

Still, she always burst into cheerful laughter at the end, as if just playing was fun enough.

They had played so hard that before long, their faces were drenched in sweat.

Nivellia’s silver hair clung to her damp skin.

“Teach me again next time!”

“Okay.”

It was time to go home.

Before leaving, Nivellia turned to Kalaroff, who had come out to see them off, and gave a polite bow.

“Thank you for inviting me today, sir.”

“Thank you for having us,” Aref added, mimicking her gesture.

“They say kids grow up so fast when you’re not looking.”

Kalaroff watched the two children with a warm smile as they greeted him politely.

He was especially struck by how much Aref had changed.

He looked much healthier than when he’d first arrived from the orphanage, and the gloom that once lingered around him had faded significantly.

Kalaroff glanced down at Aref’s hands and feet.

“Aref,” he said with a grin,
“You’re going to be a big guy, huh?”

“Me?”

“There’s an old saying—if you’ve got big hands and feet, you’ll grow tall and strong.”

At that, Aref quickly looked at his own hands.

‘Are they… big?’

To be honest, he couldn’t really tell.

But the idea of getting taller and stronger was definitely exciting.

“You know, now that I’m looking, your hands are pretty big!”

“Looks like you’ve got a sturdy frame. You might even outgrow all of us.”

“No way! Let’s compete! From now on, it’s a hand-and-foot size contest between you and me!” Al declared.

Then both Al and Rubens chimed in, saying they thought Aref’s hands and feet looked big too.

“Let me see, let me see!” Nivellia said, suddenly grabbing Aref’s hand.

Even though he was used to holding hands by now, Aref couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about the way Nivellia’s fingers explored his.

Her small, soft hand gently overlapped his thin, bony palm.

Their hands differed by almost a full finger’s length.

“Wow, they really are big!”

Nivellia’s eyes widened in amazement.

Aref couldn’t help but smile. He felt genuinely happy.

“Oh, Della.”

“Well, if it isn’t Lord Magia.”

It was Magia, the Archmage of the Tower.

And Della, the head of the intelligence network.

They met just outside the capital and decided to walk together.

They were heading to the same place anyway—
The construction site of a pharmaceutical building, a collaboration between the witches and the Deiamor family.

Old comrades from forty years ago were planning to gather there for a drink.

“What’s that you’ve got?” Magia asked, his tone blunt as usual, holding out his hand.

Della caught him eyeing the bundle she was carrying and let out a small laugh.

Without hesitation, she handed it over.

“Liquor. Since Lord Monitos said he’d be there, I brought two bottles of 41-year-old whiskey.”

“What about mine?”

“Of course, I also brought your favorite—fruit mead with honey.”

They walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

Glowing mushrooms lining the path lit their way to the gathering spot.

“Definitely the witches’ work,” Magia said, stopping to examine one closely.

“Can’t you do something like this, Lord Magia?”

“We can’t interfere with living things. That’s strictly the witches’ territory.”

“Huh. That sounds like the kind of thing Lady Nini would tease you for—like, ‘The Archmage can’t do anything useful.’”

“That snarky little cat probably would.”

Magia glanced sideways at Della, who had long since grown older than him.

“You were just a kid… and now you’ve gotten old. And uglier.”

“Didn’t Lady Nini smack you for saying that once?”

“Hey, don’t go collecting weird intel. How’d you even hear about that?”

“She told me herself.”

“Damn cat.”

“You like her. You’re just pretending not to. Always playing the cold one.”

Della gave him a firm rebuttal, saying it was childish to say the opposite of what you mean.

Magia let out a dry chuckle.

“Being honest just makes things harder. Everyone leaves me anyway.”

His words, lighthearted on the surface, held real weight—and Della had no reply.

“Living alone and young for 200 years… It’s not something I’d recommend. Feels like being trapped in time. Honestly, it sucks.”

“……”

“Little maid, just ignore me. I’m rambling like an old drunk—except I haven’t even started drinking yet.”

“You haven’t had a drop.”

“This is a preemptive drunk confession.”

Soon, the towering foundation of the building came into view.

Reinforced with the power of the Grand Witch, it looked strong enough to withstand any storm or hardship.

Bricks had already been stacked up to the second floor, and piles of building materials, including window glass, were scattered around.

“Ah, they’re here.”

Ardores pointed to the tent he had come from.

Inside, the space was already packed with early guests, chatting and laughing.

The table was overflowing with drinks and food.

There were herbal liquors brewed by witches and beautifully prepared side dishes made by the Deiamor family’s personal chef.

“You cheaters! Starting without me?”

“Should’ve been on time,” someone shot back.

Muniel waved him over and gestured to an empty seat.

The lively chatter picked up again, filling the tent with warmth and laughter.

The young heroes who had once strode across the battlefield forty years ago were now old.

Their hair had turned white, and their hands and faces were covered with deep wrinkles.

Some of their comrades had passed on—never getting the chance to grow old together.

But those who remained laughed loudly, sharing old stories and basking in memories like they were back in their golden days.

Watching them, it was easy to imagine their youth overlapping with the present.

“But really,” Magia muttered as he poured more honey wine into his glass, already red-faced from just a few sips, “that cat did something incredible.”

“Never thought we’d see a witch walking freely under the sun again.”

“Maybe you should try to get on Nini’s good side,” Ardores teased with a smug tone. “You never know—our granddaughter might be the one to finally connect the Tower and the witches.”

“Hmph! I still have my pride as the Archmage!”

Despite scoffing, Magia looked a little tempted.

After all, the witches’ power—their ability to influence living things—was something every mage dreamed of studying.

If the Tower could partner with the witches, it would be a huge step forward.

“Oh, Lady Muniel,” Della said suddenly, pulling something out from her coat.

“Here’s the information you requested.”

“Information?”

Monitos, sipping his 41-year-old whiskey, frowned.

“Did you ask her to investigate something? Why are you bringing it up here?”

“It’s because you’re the ones I’m sharing this with.”

The noisy chatter died instantly.

In the sudden silence, Muniel’s calm voice rang out clearly, like a divine message breaking through ordinary life.

“This isn’t just my problem.”

A few months ago, Muniel had asked Della to look into two things.

The first was information about the orphanage where Aref had stayed.

And the second…

“…Pink.”

Her quiet words caught everyone’s attention.

“Pink, right?”

“You saw it too?”

“As clear as day.”

On the day the Deiamor family had visited, Muniel had seen something strange around the seemingly happy and peaceful group.

Something sharp, like a crack in glass. Something dangerous. It clung to them as if trying to choke the life out of their joy.

“You all saw it too.”

That strange presence had left traces—on the people gathered here as well.

The one it clung to most strongly was Della.

“Is it a curse?” Magia asked. Now fully sober, he examined Della carefully, his sharp eyes scanning every detail.

But nothing unusual was visible.

“Something only divine power can detect? Paladin—what about you?” he asked.

“I don’t see anything,” Ardores replied, shaking his head.

“So that’s why you gathered us here. To warn us,” Monitos guessed.

Muniel smiled faintly.

“Today, I’ll bless all of you. From now on, receive my blessing regularly. And…”

As she continued speaking, a look of disbelief slowly appeared on the faces of everyone seated.

Rima read the intelligence report again and again.

Each time, her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head.

“Is this… good news?”

It felt like a strange kind of relief—one that didn’t sit quite right.

She had asked the broker to investigate the madness within the House of De Gladius.

The reply read:

“During the Krepata War, the former Duke of De Gladius suffered a serious wound inflicted by a monster.
There are rumors that the trauma from that injury triggered his madness.

As for the current duke, there is no confirmed report of any symptoms.
However, it has been confirmed that he visits the Deiamor family frequently.

While we cannot say for sure that the Deiamor family is directly involved in the madness, we also cannot completely rule out a connection due to lack of solid evidence…”

The message circled around in vague, cautious wording.

Still, Rima could read between the lines and pull out the key points.

There’s something going on in Deiamor.

The madness—born from the wound the former Duke received from a monster.

The De Gladius family had likely gone to great lengths to keep that secret hidden.

And one of those efforts, it seemed, involved the Deiamor family.

“……”

That silver hair.

Soft, flowing, like strands of spun sugar.

Silver hair… just like a saint.

Rima bit her lip.

She couldn’t shake the image of that silver-haired girl standing surrounded by the male leads.

Don’t tell me… she’s one of them too…

“Oh, miss, really.”

The maid, who had been cleaning the entrance hall, gasped and stopped mopping.

Something had rolled into her path—a little body sprawled on the floor.

It was Nivellia.

“I know the marble floor is cool, but you really shouldn’t be lying on it like that.”

“But it feels soooo nice…”

Nivellia lay limp like a heat-struck cat, lazily patting the floor with her hand like a twitching tail.

“Come on, try it.”

“I’m in the middle of mopping, miss.”

“It’s really cool…”

“…Is it that refreshing?”

“Mm-hmm.”

After hesitating a moment, the maid quietly lay down beside her.

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