The Northern Grand Duke’s Hamster

My thoughts were a tangled mess.

Would anything have changed if I had intervened earlier in Belial and Lorenz’s fight?

I hadn’t made a choice. When countless people each made decisions driven by their own reasons, beliefs, and emotions, I had simply stood still among them.

That realization struck me with painful regret. To be honest, I felt ashamed of my indecisiveness.

“It’s okay.”

As I sat there with my head bowed in silence, Kyle spoke in a gentle voice.

“Shu.”

“…It’s not okay. It was a stupid choice.”

Then, he said kindly, “Do you really think an ordinary person can make a perfect decision when standing at the crossroads of life and death?”

Ordinary.

What exactly was this ‘ordinariness’ he wanted to protect for me?

The right to step back from all conflicts with a clear conscience? Or was it an indulgence granted to those who could simply observe and turn away from the deaths of others?

I shouldn’t have done that.

I should have saved Belial earlier. Even if he couldn’t become a true ally, between Lorenz and Belial, the one who would have been less hostile to Kyle was undoubtedly Belial.

More than anything, Belial was the one Sen had tried to protect. The person she liked. And yet, I had reached out far too late.

“It’s okay.”

Just then, those same words were spoken again. Slightly startled, I lifted my head and looked across from me.

Sen’s green eyes held sorrow and resignation.

“Shu, you say you didn’t make a choice, but in reality, you did. You chose to stay by Prince Kyle’s side.”

“…”

“And you protected me. If you hadn’t pushed me away, I would have been hit by that arrow. No, I definitely would have been. I thought I was going to die for sure… but in the blink of an eye, the arrow was gone.”

Sen curled herself up even smaller and murmured,

“…I understand. I’ve decided to. People can’t do everything. When you accomplish one thing, you’re bound to let go of another. If we did our best, then blaming each other is just foolish.”

She was right. The ones to blame were elsewhere. Counting what we had lost among ourselves was meaningless.

I silently gazed at Sen.

She was holding Belial in her arms. He was unconscious, barely clinging to life after being attacked by so many people.

[Belial Serena Meinhardt. Estimated time of death: approximately 0 days remaining.]

For days, Belial’s remaining time had stayed at zero. As if his time had completely stopped.

He wasn’t dead, but calling it hope was difficult. That was why I couldn’t say anything to Sen. Because right now, Belial could die at any moment.

Even the carriage following behind us carried his coffin. At the very least, they didn’t want the prince of Meinhardt to have a miserable death.

Sen gently stroked Belial’s cold cheek and whispered,

“Why….”

Her voice trembled with sorrow.

“Why can’t humans let go of their greed?”

It sounded like she was speaking to Lorenz. Or maybe to Belial. But at the same time, it also felt like she was mocking herself for being unable to abandon her own revenge in the end.

“Why do humans always push each other into ruin before they’re finally satisfied…?”

A heavy silence descended. The suffocating grief filled the carriage, too deep for anyone to break.

“That’s why human history is drenched in blood.”

The words were laced with cynicism. Coming from a man who had survived countless struggles, they sounded even more tragic.

“War destroys a person’s heart in the most wretched way.”

Kyle opened the small carriage window and spoke calmly.

“You need rest, Sen.”

Sen curled up as if she didn’t want to hear anything, but Kyle firmly added,

“Belial left something for you.”

***

The carriage took a two-day detour west from its original route. The destination was a quiet, small village far in the northwest, past the royal capital.

As the sound of hoofbeats began to slow, I opened the window and looked outside.

The first things that caught my eye were the gently sloping dirt road, the lush green grass, and the small but vibrant flowers blooming along the path.

Tall fir trees stretched so high that even craning my neck, I couldn’t see their tops. Despite their thick foliage, warm sunlight filtered softly through the branches.

The chirping of birds tickled my ears, and the stream that flowed nearby was clear and pure.

“Sen, look this way.”

Sen, who had been fidgeting with the paper in her hands, turned her head toward the window at my call.

She stared blankly outside, blinking slowly. Then, she parted her dry lips and murmured in a hoarse voice,

“…It’s beautiful.”

“We’re almost there. Just a little farther.”

“Mm.”

Her gaze lingered on the crumpled paper in her hand before shifting back to the scenery beyond the window.

The wrinkled sheet she held was the map Belial had entrusted to Kyle to give to her. It bore no explanation, only a single marked location.

A small village. And within it, slightly set apart, a lone house standing quietly on a vast open field.

It was a gift Belial had prepared for Sen.

Not a ring, nor a dress, nor jewels—just a modest log house. And yet, it was exactly what she needed after being exhausted by years of hatred.

A place where even the harshest storms, the most deep-seated grudges, and the most crushing despair could not enter—a shelter that seemed warmer and more secure than anything else in the world.

“…He wanted me to have something like this?”

Sen gazed silently at the tranquil landscape. Then, with a slightly resentful expression, she glared down at the man lying across her lap, clinging to life with fragile breaths.

“He knew from the beginning… that there was no future for us.”

Kyle let out a faint, wry smile and gestured toward a hill nearby.

“That would be a good place for a grave. The sunlight reaches it well.”

“…”

Understanding his meaning, Sen nodded.

“There’s a lot to do before we can hold a funeral.”

“And plenty of work left even after that.”

Kyle spoke in a calm yet gentle voice.

“I’ll send a few capable people. They’ll be helpful for your daily life as well.”

I expected Sen to refuse. She was someone who had always chosen to shoulder everything alone rather than rely on others.

But after thinking it over for a moment, she nodded readily and even offered a small smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Her voice was steady and strong.

“I’ll send news to Blake’s territory from time to time.”

Perhaps Kyle’s offer was more than just practical help—it was a way to ensure that our connection with Sen wouldn’t be completely severed.

Maybe he wanted to say that he didn’t wish for her to grow distant even after parting ways, but found the words too difficult to speak aloud.

Kyle cleared his throat and turned his head away, looking somewhat awkward. Seeing this, both Sen and I couldn’t help but let out quiet chuckles at the same time.

Yes. Time moves forward, no matter how painful or sorrowful it may be. The living must keep moving.

And surely, Belial’s time would not stop either.

Despite the frail breaths he fought so desperately to take, in this moment, he was living more fiercely than anyone else here.

I didn’t know how the Meinhardt Empire would change after this. Perhaps, once Lorenz secured his position, he would completely disregard the promises made to us.

But there was no reason to fear the future in advance. We had survived, and we would lose nothing more.

“I’ll be getting off now.”

We had arrived at the house Belial had prepared for her.

Sen gathered her belongings and stepped out of the carriage. One of Belial’s knights, who had been struggling with injuries from the long journey, reported that he would also be staying here for a while.

A physician, assigned to monitor Belial’s condition, disembarked as well, along with the unconscious Belial, who was carefully carried down on a stretcher.

We nodded and waved to Sen.

There was so much we wanted to say, but prolonging the farewell would only leave behind regrets.

Besides, we would see each other again.

Even if not in person, we would keep each other’s existence alive through letters, through stories—through anything that could reach across the distance.

“…”

After Sen had disembarked, the carriage started moving toward Blake’s territory.

Only two people had left, yet the carriage suddenly felt so much emptier, its swaying motions oddly hollow.

I extended my hand out the window, waving.

Sen’s figure grew smaller and smaller, shrinking into the distance, until at last, she was nothing more than a tiny dot. Then, even that vanished entirely.

And when I could no longer see her at all—

“I’m sorry, Sen.”

I whispered the apology I hadn’t been able to say to her face.

“…I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t save everyone. I was not a god.

I knew that. This world was not the game I had once developed.

Wishing to save someone didn’t mean they would live. Knowing what would happen didn’t mean I could control everything.

And yet, regret surged over me like an unstoppable tide.

It clogged my throat, making it hard to breathe.

This cowardly apology, too shameful to say out loud, sat heavily in my chest.

“…”

I felt wretched.

This apology wouldn’t comfort Sen, nor would it ease my own guilt. It was nothing more than empty words spoken to the void.

Kyle had been right.

War shattered people’s hearts in the most merciless ways.

As if testing just how much suffering a person could endure.

As if sneering, asking if there was any way to not be tormented by it.

It crushed people, pushing them into the abyss of misery.

Kyle said nothing.

He simply watched as I swallowed down dozens of emotions, his gaze steady. Then, he reached out and grasped my wrist, which hung limp by my side.

It was hot.

The warmth of someone who had once again survived the brink of death was scorching, almost burning.

And for some reason, that made me want to cry.

“You did well.”

Kyle pulled me into an embrace and whispered,

“You did well, Shu. You survived, and you stayed by my side.”

“…”

“And you’ll only get better. Maybe not perfect, but you will improve. That’s what people do. The longer they survive, the stronger they become.”

“…”

The heat that held me so tightly murmured softly.

That it was okay.

That I had done well.

That this was enough.

That he still cared for me.

And at some point, perhaps, I had leaned into that warmth and wept.

As the carriage rolled on over the ever-chilling earth, I let go of everything—except for the one thing I could not bear to lose.

The ruthless spring was fading into the distance.

[Belial Serena Meinhardt. Estimated time of death: approximately ? days remaining.]