He had a rough idea that Noel had a hobby of collecting alcohol. After all, even her office is decorated with various kinds of liquor. But he had never heard of her indulging to the point of getting this drunk.
“What brings you to my room?”
Surprisingly, despite the situation, she still retained enough composure to hold a conversation. Sitting at the edge of the bed, lightly shaking the glass in her hand with a gentle smile, it’s a softness that’s impossible to imagine from her usual demeanor.
‘She’s kind of cute when she’s drunk.’
Normally, she’s so rigid that you could describe her as stiff, but with the atmosphere softened like this, the contrast makes he sreem almost cheerful.
“Uh…”
Just as Aiden opened his mouth to say something, his words were cut off by the sudden placement of a glass in front of him, with a strong-smelling liquor being poured in.
“Aiden, how about a drink?”
“I’ll pass.”
“Oh, why not?”
Correction: it’s not that she’s cute when drunk, it’s just that her drinking habits are terrible. Maybe it’s the backlash from living life like a model soldier straight out of a textbook. Still, she didn’t press further, and instead, she downed the glass that had been set aside for Aiden in one gulp. That’s typical of her—never crossing the line, always wrapped up in kindness and responsibility.
“Was everything alright yesterday and today?”
“…Pardon?”
“You’re my responsibility since I brought you here. If anything happens, you must let me know.”
Even when she’s terribly drunk, the kind of things she says still match that impression.
“Lady Noel.”
“Yes?”
“Why do they call you the Butcher?”
Honestly, he couldn’t help but be curious. How did she come to earn such an ill-fitting nickname?
Noel’s movements suddenly froze.
‘That was rude.’
Thinking back, the prince had used that term to pressure her at the banquet, and Katia also threw it in her face to get under her skin. It’s undoubtedly an uncomfortable term for her. But if the question is bound to be rude no matter how it’s asked, Aiden preferred to just ask it outright.
After a long pause, Noel finally spoke, her voice heavy.
“Because I killed the most on the battlefield.”
“That’s an honorable feat for a soldier, isn’t it?”
“Because I killed anyone.”
“…”
“If they held a weapon and wanted to keep fighting… anyone, it didn’t matter.”
Noel trailed off and poured more liquor into her glass. The unsaid part of her words was easy to infer. It’s not hard to imagine.
The Allied War was the largest all-out war in the continent’s history, where every nation fought for survival. And when a desperate country is on the brink of defeat, the first things to go are ethics and morality. It’s easy to guess what such a country would do to hold out for even a little longer. Conscripts who had barely received proper training, people who used to hold books or tools instead of weapons, even child soldiers were forced into the fight.
As a knight on the battlefield, Noel must have cut them all down.
The “Lionheart.” A title given to knights who led the charge, breaking through enemy lines at the forefront of battle. But in retrospect, it’s also a story about someone who excelled at being a human butcher. The infamous nickname “Butcher,” which seems to change her demeanor every time she hears it, must feel like salt in a wound. It’s understandable that she drinks herself into oblivion. Every time she hears that word, the things she wanted to forget, the nightmares gathering dust in the corner of her memory, must come rushing back all at once.
“When battles drag on too long…”
Noel poured more liquor, and Aiden’s eyes followed her hands.
“…the number of people dying just keeps increasing…”
Shaking, trembling uncontrollably. Barely managing to maintain composure.
Her face had turned pale white, and her eyes kept twitching.
She had endured through all the drinking up until now, but the moment this topic came up, it seemed like even holding her body upright was a struggle.
“If everyone just feared me, then at least more people would surrender.”
The “Lionheart,” a brave butcher of men.
The butcher who slayed all who dared to challenge.
“I ran ahead, killed the most, hoping to end the battle a little faster… to save even a few more lives…”
Noel rambled, clearly unaware of what she was even saying.
Her hands, trembling as if from tremors, wouldn’t stop shaking.
The pungent smell of alcohol overwhelmed the air as she poured more into the glass.
“Um, that, so…”
“Yes.”
Just before the glass overflowed, Aiden grabbed her wrist.
“I understand.”
Noel blinked blankly.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
Aiden continued speaking calmly, undeterred.
“I don’t think this is a conversation to have when you’re not even thinking straight, so let’s keep it short.”
Just as the prince had said before, Noel might have done terrible things in the chaos of war.
There had been some incident between the prince, her mentor—the national protector—and her, which Aiden now vaguely understood.
But even so, there was only one conclusion Aiden could draw from Noel’s intentions and actions.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“I really don’t have anything else to say.”
Noel stared at Aiden with wide eyes for a long time.
For a long, long moment.
As if something in her mind had just cleared up.
“…Thank you.”
Her voice, full of awkwardness, finally escaped.
Then—
“Wait, no—”
Before Aiden could stop her, Noel downed the entire glass of strong liquor in one gulp.
It was as though she couldn’t bear the delicate atmosphere anymore and decided to sever her consciousness entirely.
And indeed, it seemed like the final blow, as Noel collapsed onto the bed, unconscious.
Aiden sighed.
“I’ll protect you, Aiden~”
Noel mumbled in her sleep, and Aiden quietly pulled the blanket over her.
“…Oh boy.”
While Katia’s problem might be that her mental age was blatantly young, Noel was too harsh on herself.
Aiden glanced around the room.
“…I guess I should clean up a bit.”
It was probably necessary to maintain her usual image.
-System Message
You have successfully handled the side quest with wisdom.
▶ Noel Astria Simus’ affinity has increased.
▶ Your bond level has risen from 5 to 6.
You have gained an additional skill copy usage!
▶ Your bond has grown significantly.
The way “Weaver of Fate” operates will soon change!
At least the conversation, despite being under the influence, seemed to have helped lift Noel’s spirits.
‘…I have three copies of Noel’s skills.’
He hadn’t used any yet, so they had been piling up.
Now, there were already three.
Two from Katia, one from the prince that remained unused, and with the unopened “skill shop,” there was plenty of room to grow.
‘At this rate… I guess I’ve almost gathered all the “ingredients” needed to handle the upcoming Phantom Knight incident in Act 1.’
His battle skills, the “culinary skills” needed to “cook” those ingredients, were still quite lacking, though.
The silver lining was that there were signs of steady growth.
***
“You’re dying a bit less,” Meyer said, sheathing his sword.
His voice was surprisingly cheerful for someone who had just sliced Aiden in two.
“You only died about 80 times today, didn’t you?”
“I’ve rarely seen anyone improve this fast in just a few days.”
Aiden lay on the ground, silently glaring at Meyer.
‘This is ridiculous.’
Honestly, there was no way to deal with him. Even when he tried using pure energy to enhance his physical abilities, wielded divinity to intimidate, and deployed magic to escape, nothing worked. His energy was torn apart like cardboard, his divinity scattered as if it were mere embers, and he wasn’t even given enough time to focus on casting his spells. He’d get close, and then he’d be cut in two.
Die, die, and die again.
It was baffling how someone who clearly wasn’t fighting seriously could manage such feats.
The funny thing is, the improvement Meyer spoke of wasn’t a lie. On the first day, Aiden had died over a hundred times. And Aiden knew exactly why.
-System Message
The effect of ‘Skill: Analysis’ has activated.
▶ Target ‘Meyer Belford’s combat skills are equal to this skill’s level. Style analysis is not possible!
▶ A function to analyze the target’s weaknesses has been added.
▶ An efficient counter-strategy will be automatically learned.
Since he had borrowed the analysis skill from Meyer, even though he couldn’t fully grasp his style, he had been steadily learning how to counter it. As a result, Aiden’s body seemed to be automatically absorbing the methods to deal with Meyer, engraining them into his muscle memory. And with no choice but to immediately put those methods into practice, the learning efficiency was terrifyingly high.
Despite all these advantages, though, the gap between him and Meyer was so vast that his head would still roll every time.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, his body, which had been split in half, stitched itself back together. In this mental realm, no matter how many times he died, his body would recover this quickly. The first time, it made him shudder with disgust, but after dying hundreds of times over the span of a few days, he had more or less gotten used to it.
“…But, is it really necessary to feel every single sensation this vividly, even if it’s just training?”
It wasn’t an exaggeration—each death felt vividly real. Whether he was split in two by a sword, burned by divinity, torn apart by energy, or turned into a pincushion by magic, every death felt unbearably authentic.
“It’s necessary.”
Meyer answered firmly, his voice resolute.
“Listen, rookie. Do you know why I became a great knight, one whose name is etched in history?”
“…No?”
“Because I made sure my training was even more brutal than real combat.”
“The hellish training I went through optimized everything, and now I’m personally teaching you one-on-one. So don’t complain—it’s all necessary.”
‘…Well, his words made sense.’
But still, Aiden couldn’t help but feel like he was just suffering through it. He kept getting sliced in half over and over again by Meyer.
“When I say you’ve improved a lot, it’s not an empty compliment.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Trust me. If you were thrown into a real fight right now, you’d at least hold your own.”
“On what basis?”
What kind of training was this where all he did was get split apart? How was this supposed to teach him anything?
“That’s the key point.”
Meyer’s words hit him as if he had read Aiden’s mind.
“You’ve experienced countless ways to die over the past few days, haven’t you?”
“…Yes.”
“Well, consider that like earning yourself extra lives.”
“You can doubt me all you want, but it’s the truth.”
“It just feels like I’m being tortured…”
“No.” Meyer grinned wickedly. “It’s not just torture. It’s *valuable* torture.”
At least he admitted it was torture.
And when you go through such experiences every night, naturally, someone would ask:
“Aiden, are you getting enough sleep?”
In his office, Noel asked him, her voice filled with concern. Seeing Aiden looking more and more worn out each day, anyone would worry.
“Yes, somehow.”
“If there’s anything making you uncomfortable, please let me know. I’ll make sure to address it.”
“I’m fine.”
Unfortunately, it was something no one could help him with. No matter how aware he was that he wasn’t actually dying, and no matter how much he understood it was all simulated, repeatedly experiencing such things couldn’t be good for his mental health. His body might be fine, but his mind felt like it was being pushed to the limit every day, shriveling up in the process.
Still, Noel didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. She pursed her lips and gave him a concerned look. Aiden forced a smile to reassure her, trying to convey that he was okay. Noel, however, shook her head.
After holding each other’s gaze for a moment, Noel seemed to gather herself, as if she had something more to say.
“Aiden.”
“Yes?”
She glanced at him nervously, biting her lip.
“You came to my room once when I was drunk, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Did I… do something inappropriate then?”
‘…So she didn’t remember anything from that night.’
“I’ve heard I’m quite the handful when I’m drunk.”
It seemed like she had no memory of what had happened that night at all.
Should he consider this fortunate or unfortunate?
‘Well…’
Maybe he should call it a bit inappropriate. She did show several sides of herself that she would normally never reveal.
“…No.”
Aiden scratched his cheek and voiced his honest thoughts. Wanting to ease her worries, he tried to put it in the best light possible.
“If I had to say, it was kind of cute.”
“Lady Noel?”
“Lady Noel…?”
There was no reply. Noel stubbornly pressed her lips together, pulling her hat down lower as she shifted her gaze to her desk. However, the flush that crept up to the tips of her ears was impossible to hide.
“Aiden.”
After a long, silent moment, Noel glared at him with a look of mild resentment.
“That’s forbidden.”
“Please refrain from making such remarks.”
“Did it bother you?”
“It didn’t bother me, but it’s still forbidden.”
“If you think about it, it was kind of nice, but still, don’t say it.”
Why was it forbidden?
Even in the midst of it all, her honest admission that she actually liked it seemed so like her.
‘Turns out she’s more vulnerable to compliments than I thought.’
Considering her position, it’s rare to find someone like her who’s easily affected by praise. The more he learns about her, the stranger she seems…
“Aiden, Lady Noel!”
Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, the door to the office suddenly flew open. It was Stella, her usual composed demeanor replaced with an urgent expression.
“Lady Stella? What happened—”
“Lady Katia has gone missing!”
Aiden jumped from his seat, alarmed.
Cliche Novel 