I overshot the role of an adopted daughter. Episode 67, whoosh.

Viola hugged Jeremy.

Closed in Jeremy’s embrace, Viola was sobbing.

“… Don’t.”

“What?”

In an instant, a chill ran down Jeremy’s spine.

Suddenly, she said ‘don’t die.’

It sent shivers down him, particularly because it was Viola saying such a thing.

He felt as if a blade was about to fly from somewhere unseen.

“Don’t go.”

“Huh?”

“If you die like this, you’ll resent me for a lifetime.”

Jeremy realized that Viola was speaking to someone else.

Only then did he sense it.

‘A vision?’

It seemed that Viola was seeing a vision.

It looked like she was witnessing the death of someone precious to her in that vision.

‘Did someone precious to Viola die?’

Today, her fragile shoulders trembled notably.

Her body, which usually seemed stronger than anyone else’s, felt incredibly weak.

“Please don’t die. Open your eyes.”

“I won’t bug you about getting me tonkatsu.

I won’t be a bother. Just… just open your eyes, please.”

Jeremy could realize why Viola fell into this vision.

Her affinity with spirits was extraordinarily high.

It seemed she was vulnerable to the visions shown by the spirits.

‘If she carried the blood of Bellatu, she wouldn’t be fooled by their tricks.’

High spirit affinity was a double-edged sword.

“It’s okay, Viola. I’m not dead.”

Jeremy patted Viola’s back.

He believed that Viola could surely break free from that vision.

‘All I can do right now… is just pat her back.’

It was surprisingly unexpected.

Viola’s weak side. He couldn’t even imagine she would have such a side.

‘Who could she be missing so dearly?’

Whoever the one in the vision was, why was Viola so terrified?

The great Viola, indeed.

Jeremy’s heart grew a bit complicated.

‘She was found in the slum, wasn’t she?’

He imagined she must have been abandoned by her parents.

When the Duke first discovered her, it was said she stabbed a slave trader to death with a shard of glass.

‘It’s not like she was abandoned…’

From listening to her sobs, it didn’t seem like she was simply abandoned.

‘Don’t die.’

‘If you die like this, you’ll resent me for a lifetime.’

Then, the person in the vision was very likely her parents.

Jeremy was certain.

‘Viola is seeing her mom or dad right now.’

His chest ached tremendously.

*

At seven, Jeremy had a crush on a girl.

He went to the Sibone intersection every evening to meet her.

The girl beggared and scraped by at Sibone intersection.

Unfortunately, the girl was blind.

Clink.

He heard the sound of coins dropping into the beggar’s cup.

“Thank you.”

“5 Dalia.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m saving my allowance to give to you.”

Jeremy searched for the girl every day.

He flashed his allowance as if it were a big deal.

Every time, the girl would bow and thank him.

Six months passed.

“Can’t you say anything other than thank you?”

“Well…”

Jeremy was always unhappy.

He wanted to hear something else from the girl, but all she ever said was ‘thank you.’

Frustrated, Jeremy finally introduced himself.

“My name is Jeremy.”

At that moment, Jeremy was trembling.

Just sharing his name filled him with excitement and made his heart soar.

“But don’t you have parents?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“They abandoned me.”

That was when Jeremy realized for the first time.

There were parents who abandoned their children.

There were children who were abandoned.

‘It hurts my heart…’

Another six months passed.

The girl’s name was Muelan, and she was the same age as him.

When they had been together for about a year, Muelan asked,

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Well…”

Because I like you!

He couldn’t say that.

At eight years old, Jeremy didn’t fully comprehend why he was so nice to Muelan.

“Because… we’re friends.”

At the word “friends,” Muelan smiled brightly.

It was the first smile he had seen in a year.

“Friend. That’s a nice word.”

“Right?”

“Then you can stop giving me charity.”

At eight, Muelan learned to clean shoes and started to earn enough for her living expenses.

She didn’t have to beg anymore.

That day, Jeremy and Muelan had their first fight.

Jeremy got angry, exclaiming why she was rejecting his money, while Muelan shouted that she was no longer a beggar.

That night.

Lying on a fluffy bed, Jeremy bit his lips.

“Frustrating.”

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand what he had done wrong.

He recalled the nanny’s words.

“That’s not frustration; it’s heartache, young master.”

An hour passed, then two, but sleep eluded him.

The usual lullaby of chirping bugs now only irked him.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll apologize.’

He resolved to apologize as the sun rose.

Truthfully, he still didn’t know the reason.

But to Jeremy, the reason didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Muelan was upset.

Early the next morning.

Jeremy headed to Sibone intersection.

‘Why isn’t Muelan here?’

He couldn’t see Muelan, who usually came to clean shoes with him.

A day passed, then two.

Jeremy grew increasingly anxious.

It wasn’t until the third day that he heard news about Muelan.

A group of robbers had attacked the slum around the back street of Sibone.

Due to that incident, the guards of the Storm Fortress were severely reprimanded and hastily formed an investigation team.

The Storm Blade, Jackal, was also furious.

‘I’ll track down the thieves.

They were, at once, both robbers and slave traders.’

Only then did Jeremy realize.

That Muelan had been taken away by the slave traders.

“Take me with you, Father!”

Jeremy howled, declaring he would join the pursuit, but Jackal didn’t heed him.

For the nine-year-old Jeremy, the external reason was that it was dangerous, and the real reason was that they sensed his dangerously strong bloodlust.

‘Calm down and stay in your room.’

‘This is adult business.’

Jeremy was locked in solitary confinement for three days.

And after a long time had passed, Jeremy heard news about Muelan.

Muelan was no longer living in this world.

“I don’t want to do anything.”

Jeremy did not come out of his solitude for seven days.

Then, in the midst of it all, a conversation with the nanny revived Jeremy.

“There are countless Muelans in this world.”

“What do you mean? There’s only one Muelan.”

“Even in places like Storm Fortress, where security is tight, such horrifying things happen.

Countless similar incidents occur around the world.”

The second Muelan, the third Muelan, the fourth Muelan.

There were many Muelans in this world.

“You have power, young master.”

He inherited the blood of the Storm Blade, showing remarkable qualities of a martial artist even now.

People sometimes referred to Jeremy as ‘Little Storm.’

“Those who have power live in abundance. And that power should be used for the weak.”

“Why?”

Because it is the right thing to do; it’s just.

She didn’t phrase it too abstractly.

“You felt heartache, didn’t you?”

“…Yeah.”

“What do you think would happen if many people felt that same feeling?”

“It would be sad.”

“Protecting them from feeling that emotion. That is the duty of a noble.”

Jeremy felt a definite sense.

The fact that he would no longer see Muelan was too terrifying and scary.

And so he resolved.

To do his utmost so another Muelan would not occur.

A year passed.

Jeremy stood at the grave where Muelan’s ashes were buried, holding his sword and promising,

“I’m sorry for not protecting you.”

From that day on, Jeremy showed no mercy to slave traders.

The moment he spotted one, he killed them on the spot.

His reputation grew, and he became known as ‘Little Storm.’

*

Jeremy gazed at the weeping Viola in his arms and recalled the past.

Jeremy did not forgive the slave traders or the “parents who abandoned their child.”

Instead, he worked hard to help abandoned children.

He thought that was the duty he must fulfill for not being able to protect Muelan.

Viola’s words echoed in his ears.

“Don’t die.”

“If you die like this, you’ll resent me for a lifetime.”

He realized he had only seen the glamorous and bright side of Viola.

The lucky one adopted into the Duke House.

He had thought that way, but it seemed not so simple.

‘Why didn’t I think of her life before adoption?’

He had emphasized the fact that she stabbed a slave trader with a shard of glass at seven years old, only to overlook the underlying factors.

Why was she roaming the slums alone at that young age?

Why did she have to pick up glass shards herself?

‘She must have had no one to protect her.’

Just like Muelan.

Neither had a guardian.

No one could protect them both.

If there had been someone to protect them, Muelan might still be alive today.

‘Viola was the same.’

However, the difference was that Muelan was taken by slave traders, while Viola had killed them herself.

‘If Viola had an adult in her life,

she wouldn’t have had to hold glass shards.’

Jeremy spoke.

“It’s okay.”

“… Don’t go.”

“It’s okay, Viola. I’ll protect you.”

He gently patted Viola’s back.

He hugged her a little tighter.

He held her trembling body close.

“What you’re seeing is an illusion.”

Viola didn’t hear those words.

The sounds of sirens. Doctors in white coats bustling around.

Paramedics in orange shirts. People shouting urgently with unfamiliar terms.

And the bloodied Kang Han-jun.

Those images appeared before her.

It felt cold and frightening.

It seemed like Kang Han-jun would leave like this.

Then, at some moment, warmth washed over her.

‘Warm.’

She felt an inexplicable warmth.

It felt like something was tightly embracing her.

She felt a reassuring sense of being protected.

It was a warmth she had never felt since becoming Viola Bellatu.

“Your connection with spirits is too high; you’ve been deceived by their illusions. No one is dead. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Jeremy vowed.

That he wouldn’t leave Viola’s side.

He promised to protect young Viola, abandoned and left in the slums, without anyone to shield her.

“You can overcome this, Viola.”

It was too dark to see Viola’s face.

Yet, he locked eyes with Viola.

Amidst the darkness, he could feel Viola’s lavender eyes.

“You’re not alone.”

You don’t have to hold glass shards.

At that time, you had lost your parents and lived in the slums, but that’s not the case anymore.

You’ve become Bellatu’s princess now, and I’m here by your side.

“We’re friends.”

The visions in Viola’s eyes gradually began to fade.

Small voices began to be heard.

[Stop it, guys.]

[If you keep playing around, we’ll vanish.]

To the spirits, it was an illusion that was just a game.

This illusion had a fatal weakness; it would shatter when confronted with a human being’s sincere desire.

[Who’s that child?]

[Our bodies will break apart.]

The spirits could no longer play around.

Jeremy’s sincerity and desire shattered the spirits’ illusion.

Viola gradually regained her peace.

She fell asleep peacefully.

Jeremy quietly sat there, patting Viola’s shoulder.

“Good night.”

It seemed the illusion had broken.

When she woke up, she would once again be Viola Bellatu.

Not the abandoned little girl, but the Iron-Blooded Princess Viola.

‘Thinking about it makes me a little sad.’

Some time passed.

Footsteps were heard in the darkness.

“So.”

Jeremy tensed up.

He cautiously laid the still-sleeping Viola against the wall and stood up.

He drew his sword.

‘Who is it?’

Voices echoed.

“What on earth is Korea?”

Jeremy found himself utterly puzzled by the words that followed.

“So, you’re Kang Han-jun?”