The Impact of the Author’s Intervention on a Blank Page - Chapter 45

Duke Izatrix of Ludwig gazed out the window at the heavy snowfall. Despite the multiple layers of curtains providing insulation, frost had formed on the thick glass panes of his office.

The grand mansion maintained a comfortable temperature through a combination of enchanted stones crafted by renowned mages and hot water heating, yet there was no preventing the outer walls and windows from freezing over.

He reached out, running his fingers across the ice crystals. A droplet of melted frost formed at the tip of his long, knuckled fingers.

“Your Grace.”

A voice called from behind him. It was the butler.

Duke Izatrix turned slowly. Leaning against the ebony desk, he responded with a tone that invited the butler to continue.

“What is it?”

“Has there been any improvement in your condition, sir?”

The butler cautiously inquired about his state, speaking in roundabout terms.

Duke Izatrix contemplated before answering. Considerable time had passed since the onset of that confounding affliction—where most of his conceptual knowledge remained intact, but his experiential memories were largely lost.

“No, but it’s gradually improving, so there’s no need for concern. They say it’s just a temporary condition from overwork.”

Though the Duke’s response was a lie, the butler showed no sign of doubt. He visibly relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh. With his expression brightened, the butler proceeded to deliver his main report.

“According to the Researcher of Altria, this will be the last heavy snowfall of the year, expected to subside in a few days. Accordingly, we plan to advance the deployment schedule for the Northern Standing Army. The barrier reports monster activity levels similar to previous years, however…”

Though March has arrived, spring comes late to Izatrix. Only after this snowfall ends will the snow slowly begin to melt and the grass start to grow.

The Duke responded concisely.

“Deploy as planned, without reduction.”

“Yes, understood. And…”

The Duke of Izatrix closed his eyes as he listened to the report. The dizzying information swirled in his mind, gradually finding its proper place.

He had lost his memories—that much was clear. Not a single memory remained from before he came of age, and his memories after that felt detached, like reading an elaborate story rather than experiencing it firsthand.

Fortunately, while he had forgotten his interpersonal memories, his common sense and knowledge remained largely intact. By simply taking time to review previous documents, he could quickly adapt to his existing duties and position. Moreover, there was no one in the mansion who would find his behavior strange or question him despite his imperfect memories.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t carelessly reveal information that could become his weakness. Thus, only the doctor, the butler, and the two servants who first spoke with him needed to know about his memory issues.

The absence of memories signified a serious mental defect. In this era, the perception of mental illness was still quite poor…

‘Still, in this era?’

The Duke furrowed his brow at the phrase that surfaced from a corner of his mind.

Regardless of the reason, the rule was simple and intuitive: hide one’s weaknesses while uncovering those of opposing external forces.

But what troubled him most was something else entirely.

Knock, knock. A careful rapping came from outside. A servant entered through the door gap and addressed the Duke who was watching him.

“Master, it’s almost mealtime. How would you like to proceed? If you’re busy, I can have the meal brought to your office.”

“…”

“Master?”

“No, I’ll have it in my room.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring two portions. I’ll be dining with Raijin, so make one his usual meal… And from now on, do this whenever there are no outings or guests scheduled.”

“Ah. Yes, understood!”

When he returned to his room, he saw his younger brother sitting on the bed as he had in the morning, examining something. He was peering into a geographical text about the northern continent.

“Raijin.”

“Oh, um, haha… Welcome back. Are you finished with work?”

Having noticed his brother’s arrival belatedly due to his concentration, Raijin awkwardly smiled and hid the book he was reading.

“Yes. I came to have dinner together.”

Raijin El Izatrix—his illegitimate younger brother whom he himself had brought here ten years ago after living among commoners. So frail he couldn’t venture beyond his bed carelessly.