Chapter 223 – Ronye (3)

You are a genius.

The words that had been etched in her ears since childhood, she still recalls.

‘Am I a genius?’

Indeed. A genius. If not her, then who else could be a genius? Everyone said so. It couldn’t have been any other way. In reality, she was the kind of precocious genius often spoken of.

Maronnier.

Her family name, Maronnier, was a symbol of France. It represented the genesis of the revolution and its first spark. When everyone raised their flagpoles, when they stood in line, screaming, when the path of the revolution was soaked with blood and tears, Maronnier was always present.

France itself. The vanguard, responsible for upholding its honor.

All Maronniers who led the way while waving the tricolor flag shared the same name. It was Maronnier who first led the Revolutionary Corps. It was also Maronnier who calmed the aftereffects of the revolution and nurtured its growth.

To the French, the Marronnier is more than just a common landscaping tree. Each time they lay eyes on it, they are filled with the nostalgic scent of revolution.

Marronnier became their focal point.

They no longer possessed names. Well, they once did, but it had been an eternity since they were last called by those names.

“Maronnier Blanche – the White Chestnut Tree.”

The reason for Blanche becoming Marronnier was rather simple. The older sister, who was initially entrusted with the role of Marronnier, had gone missing. Moreover, she was considered to be far more talented and possessed a unique ability.

The National Tree must bear the weight of the nation upon its shoulders.

One must be rigorously educated and relinquish their personal life in order to embody and symbolize national pride. Such was the nature of the National Tree: perpetually lonely, desolate, yet never showing it.

Unlike the Marronniers of the past, the leaves of this Marronnier were darker and murkier than before.

It was an inevitable outcome.

“Genius.”

Marronier considered herself a genius, as everyone else seemed to believe so. She had the ability to read other people’s minds, and what once was deemed a coincidence, increased in accuracy as she grew older.

Now, at over 20 years old, she had developed her skill to the point of being able to see all the scenes others could imagine.

This ability was a useful delight. However, in comparison to the other national symbols, she still had much to learn.

Genius and shallow talent were not the same. No matter how hard she tried to compensate for her shortcomings with cunning tricks, there would always be those who outpaced her. As time passed, her speech became increasingly sharp, and like all national symbols, she grew immensely weaker when matters of national prestige were at stake.

Every night, she would ask herself several times:

“Why do I live?”

There was no clear purpose.

To embody the essence of a nation was a monumental task. Despite knowing full well that not everyone could achieve this, she still dreamt of it.

The life of an ordinary academy cadet or a common woodworker—when you’re born as someone else’s child.

What thoughts fill their minds as they live and grow? What kind of soil nourishes them as they sprout and bloom with dreams?

Marronnier often hums, carrying a handful of wishes in her song.

“…♬”

A girl playing the flute.

Beneath the Sanghyeon, sitting on the windowsill, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and singing her wishes—memories of a fleeting summer night.

The cat beside her thigh and the touch of its soft fur.

As children stride toward their nascent dreams, the guiding presence of the national tree stands behind them, its shadowy and woeful tale.

Marronnier in early summer, singing while scratching her mosquito-bitten skin. Her story. My story.

The maids of the mansion envelop her song in hope and dreams, spreading it to others.

Marronnier’s melodies, floating across the Internet, were thus identified, contrary to her wishes.

The marching song of France.

It was the moment when yet another of her hobbies vanished.

* * * * * * * *

‘Why am I in this situation…’

Marronnier stepped forward, her expression creased with a frown that she kept to herself.

With her staff in hand, she took one step, then two. However, remembering her earlier defeat brought an immense feeling of frustration.

‘If only the forest and the dungeon hadn’t turned out like this.’

She knew she would face criticism for her loss, but she still had room for excuses.

From the beginning, she hadn’t planned to use her full strength. Intermediate magic – that level alone would be enough to make most cadets back off. She had used it for the purpose of intimidating or driving them away. It would have been perfect if her opponents had been eliminated after taking the hit.

However, the opponent was more formidable than anticipated. Their movements were swifter than imagined. And she, Blanche, was an ultra-long-range mage who focused on firepower, leaving her vulnerable in close combat.

The situation unfolded due to a combination of various factors—the internet articles would say as much.

The cells within Blanche’s mind echoed the same sentiment.

[You faced a tough opponent, Blanche. You’re aware of the gap between that man and you, right? It’s not that you’re inadequate.]

‘Is that so?’

As she thought this, another cell emerged and berated her, as if to scold.

[You’re revealing your lack of talent, Blanche. A mage incapable of close combat—does that even make sense for someone of your caliber? If you truly had talent, shouldn’t you be able to handle that as well?]

Blanche’s lips pouted at the harsh words of the new cell.

‘…’

Midway, Blanche stopped and stuck out her tongue. Doing so seemed to clear the chaotic thoughts in her head, if only a little.

“What are you doing?”

As the man behind her spoke, Marronnier’s shoulders trembled.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

With a quivering voice, Marronnier replied to him and continued to advance through the dungeon.

A terrifying man in a mask.
Was he Lee Si-heon from El Academy? It felt like a dream.

A staff that strikes down, as if to crush itself along with the barrier. If she had been hit by that, she might have really died.

-Gulp.

Why does she keep swallowing her saliva?
Marronnier looked around cautiously, her eyes seeming to spin.

The golem standing in front of her spread its arms, as if enveloping both Lee Si-heon and Marronnier.

-Screech.

Just then, spiders crawled along the stone walls.
Marronnier reached out her hand, conjuring lightning and instantly eliminating them.

-Zzzzap!

Electrocuted, the spiders fell from the wall, their legs torn asunder. They spewed bodily fluids and died instantly.

Watching this, Marronnier thought. Yes, this is how it should have been originally.
The speed of electrical magic is exceptionally fast. It’s overwhelming for the perpetrator’s vision to even keep up with it.

Assassination rather than power. Evading is impossible.
Even highly skilled individuals prefer to block it instead.

Yet, he managed to avoid it by fluidly twisting his body. It made her wonder if it was even possible to see and evade it, just narrowly letting it pass by.

‘This person is definitely not a wizard.’

Was it called El Academy? The academy where Jung Si-woo is.
How on earth did someone like this emerge from there?

The wind magic he used was beyond her imagination. Despite being a beginner, the power that made a mockery of the intermediate level. It was as if she was witnessing a sage from his prime.

And above all, his adept bodily movements.

‘…Flower?’

A dizzying thought fleetingly crossed her mind.

‘Yes…’

A short while ago, she had received a request from the church.
To read the minds of certain individuals, and if anyone suspicious was found, to report them immediately. There were suspicions that a Flower might be among them.

‘Isn’t it unlikely that such a talent would suddenly emerge from barren lands devoid of anything?’

Unfounded suspicion is harmful, but the strength of this person defied explanation.
If it were a widely known figure like Jung Si-woo, it might be different.
The name Lee Si-heon was one she had never heard before in her life.

Most importantly, he was human.

Humans comprised 70% of the Flower organization. Considering this, the likelihood that Lee Si-heon, a human rather than a wooden man, was a Flower was significantly higher than that of others.

Marronnier subtly turned her head to gaze at Lee Si-heon.

“…?”

Behind the mask, emotionless eyes met her own. Marronnier felt her breath catch in her throat.

‘Why do I feel like this?’

My heart races. Arrhythmia? Is it finally time to die?
Certainly not affection or anything resembling that emotion. This sensation of my legs trembling, wanting to distance myself from my counterpart immediately… perhaps.

[Coward (C → A)]

An unknown aspect of Marronnier’s temperament.

Marronnier, ignorant of the reason, could only shudder in fear.
A national tree. Even though it’s a national tree.
She forgot to exhale, continuing to inhale instead. It was only when her lungs were filled to capacity that she managed to breathe out.

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

The gait of a man with some mobility difficulties.

Marronnier blinked and took a step back.
Recalling her primary duty and the request of her order, she slowly activated her unique ability.

Mental landscape.

The power to directly read another’s thoughts and imagination with her own eyes.
A faint cross emerged in her eyes, and a vivid scene materialized in her mind.

The problem is—

“…Uh.”

Even that unique ability had grown by two stages.

[Lewd Demon B → S]

And Lee Si-heon, too, apart from King Mokryeong’s inherent ability and temperament that couldn’t be interfered with, had gone up two levels.

The temperament reaching the level of S was no different from one’s identity.

Marronnier’s inherent ability made him feel as if he had experienced the man’s imagination right next to him.

-Boom!

“…Ugh, ugh.”

Auditory hallucinations echoed in Marronnier’s ears.

It was incredibly vivid, like the sound one makes when biting down hard on their teeth and enduring something. Marronnier looked around urgently.

In his imagination? What on earth was this?

The sign he had seen before suggested that his ability had indeed developed. It provided the characters in this dungeon an opportunity to grow to the next level.

But this time, the direction seemed a little off.

As I stepped back, I could feel the touch of limestone bricks. Though it was all in my imagination, it felt incredibly real.

“Ook… Oh ho-ok.”

A voice that had been bothering my ears for a while now. Marronnier turned her head toward the sound.

-Giying.

As soon as she saw the scene, a massive headache struck her, as if a needle had been driven into her ear.

It seemed unbelievable. Marronnier’s eyes widened.

What unfolded before her eyes was the obscene sight of a man and woman entwined in lustful acts. The woman placed her thighs on the man’s arms, bound and unable to use her strength. Both of their eyes were rolled back, and they were joined together in a monstrous fashion.

“Please… please stop…”

For Marronnier, nothing could have been more vulgar than this. Her blue hair, once tied in two ponytails, had come undone long ago. Her fine, sweaty strands clung to the nape of her neck and the man’s skin.

With a face that seemed to melt, the words spoken had strayed quite far from their original intent of denial.

“Ah, ah… ahh…”

The man, who had firmly gripped and lifted the small Marronnier’s hips, now laid her down on the stone bricks. He pressed down on Marronnier’s head with his hand.

Unconsciously, Marronnier swallowed her saliva.

‘…He’s like a beast.’

“Ah! Ah! Please, not so… Ahhhhh!”

Before him, Marronnier cried out, seemingly pleased. She twitched her small buttocks, exposing her desire to the beast in front of her.

He longed to slap her flushed thighs.

*Gurgle, gurgle*

Urine soaked the dungeon floor. The man didn’t stop; he kept pushing. Was his body so weak that his knees might give out? The woman in front of him seemed to be focused only on pleasure; pain appeared to have no bearing on her.

Did she truly, really enjoy it that much? Why?

It was just sex, after all.

Living a life far removed from such carnal desires, Marronnier found herself in an unimaginable situation. In front of her very eyes, she was being mercilessly taunted.

-Gulp.

A surge of indescribable disgust welled up within her, and the hidden interest in that disgust only served to irritate her further.

Her head ached.

-Thud!

Marronnier abruptly snapped out of her thoughts, and Lee Si-heon looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“…Huh, gasp.”
“What’s the matter? Suddenly?”

The man asked nonchalantly. Was he even human? In that moment, Marronnier felt as though she had glimpsed an abyss deeper than the Flower itself.

Marronnier’s face paled, and her thighs trembled.

-Gulp.

What if he had read her thoughts? At present, it was only an imagined scenario in her head, but if he discovered she was having such thoughts, who knew if he might attempt to make them a reality?

I indulged in a salacious fantasy about the national tree.
There’s no greater transgression, but since it’s come to this, let’s give in. It’s not entirely impossible.

Perhaps I’ll have to make a life-or-death decision.

‘…Pretend not to know.’

Let’s feign ignorance.
After all, it’s my own fault for intrusively reading others’ thoughts. As long as it doesn’t come true… fantasies don’t break any laws.

My face is burning up.

Marronnier quickly averted her head. Struggling, she walked briskly ahead.

“Let’s, let’s move forward quickly. Advance.”
“Alright.”

The composed man’s voice. Remembering the earlier fantasy, Marronnier shivered.
It felt as if a tear born from fear was welling up.