Arc-7 Ch-30
148
Chapter
Embrace
2026
In most cases people wake up in the morning because sunlight or their ingrained daily rhythm causes the body to wake first, and only then does the brain slowly start working. I am no exception to that pattern either.
However, the situation becomes completely different during emergencies. After all, nobody wants to sleep so deeply that they fail to notice an enemy surprise attack and end up going straight to the afterlife.
During wartime or active operations, some corner of one’s consciousness always remains awake so the body is never allowed to fall completely asleep, enabling instant movement.
Even when lying down, if you keep tossing and turning a lot or parts of your body start having small spasms, you are finally treated as a proper soldier. Back when I was a lowly private in the kingdom army, my superiors used to tell me that sort of thing quite often.
The moment when that easygoing older guy, who got along well with me, obediently followed the idiotic orders of some useless big shot and turned into a shower of blood and lumps of meat on the battlefield, I still occasionally see that scene in my dreams even now.
While I reluctantly took on the role of gathering and leading around my bewildered comrades, somehow before I realized it I had been made into a noble. Life really is something where you have absolutely no idea what is going to happen.
For someone like me, who rose from a mere soldier to this position, to fall completely asleep and then struggle so much just to wake up is honestly pathetic.
It has already been more than ten years since the war ended. Even after that I continued carrying out dangerous missions, but ever since I started getting help from that lost item’s little orb, things have become far easier.
The easier things get, the higher your survival odds become, but at the same time your bodily senses grow duller.
After all I am already in my mid-thirties. The quick, nimble movements I had as a teenage private or the powerful grappling strength I possessed in my twenties are probably impossible for me now.
No matter how battle-hardened a soldier you are, or how blessed with talent a master you might be, the decline inevitably arrives. Being able to maintain peak physical strength lasts, at best, only until the end of one’s thirties.
After that point the only option left is to keep deceiving everyone (and yourself) by relying on accumulated experience and movements that have been optimized to the limit.
My own skill level is nothing impressive. It's just slightly better than average. I can beat people weaker than me. I lose to those who are stronger. Utterly ordinary.
For an average person like me who has no choice but to resort to cowardly tricks if I want guaranteed victory, it is about time I retired from shadowy scout or spy-like work and devoted myself fully to the job of a lord. Otherwise I will run out of lives no matter how many I have.
By the time I had been endlessly spilling these worthless complaints inside my head, the feeling in my hands and feet finally started returning properly.
My body still feels heavy and sluggish, but unless it is actual combat there should not be any problem. And if something really did happen, the subordinates I posted as lookouts would report it immediately and wake me up by force.
Every time I move my just-woken body, creaking and popping sounds come from joints all over the place, which is honestly a little frightening. Lately the stiffness in my joints has been steadily worsening, and the fact that I now absolutely cannot skip preparatory warm-up exercises before work is a painful reminder that I am aging. It makes me want to cry.
Anyway, I have to get dressed first. If I do not put back on the clothes I took off before napping, it would be rude to Yumeria-san, and Angie and the girls would probably come to hate me.
While thinking that, I glance nearby and notice something golden twitching in tiny movements. The overall silhouette most closely resembles Ariel and Roxanne from a few years ago, yet something feels off.
After staring and thinking for a while I finally reached the answer. This is a miniaturized Angie.
Because of the incident that occurred in the ruins inside the elf village, Angie has become younger. Right now she is sitting on the edge of the bed reading a book. She is wearing nothing more than underwear-like thin clothing.
“Why are you here……”
No matter how you look at it this is an extremely bad situation. To begin with, the way the two of us appear is terribly inappropriate.
A man in his thirties and a teenage girl, alone together in the same room, on the same bed, both wearing only light clothing.
From any angle it reeks of crime.
Certainly the type of woman I like is a blonde with red eyes and a strong, proud Young Lady personality, but the girl in front of me is lacking in quite a few crucial places.
Height, weight, those soft and large breasts, those solid child-bearing hips, those pleasantly thick thighs, and above all, age is decisively insufficient.
Still, after spending nearly twenty years together, even when the appearance changes I can recognize from speech patterns and mannerisms that this tiny girl is Angie.
And that is precisely why it is so troubling. My brain is starting to go haywire from having to accept that the “mature adult Angie” I love and this “childlike little-girl Angie” are the exact same person.
To put it bluntly, if things continue like this I might stop being aroused by grown women and start getting excited only by girls around ten years old.
People already whisper behind my back that ever since we married I have been getting my wife pregnant every few years like clockwork, so the last thing I want is additional rumors saying I have a lolicon fetish and can only get it up for young girls.
I really do not want to lose any more of my reputation as a noble or my dignity as a father.
“You are awake, Leon. It is fine if you keep sleeping, you know.”
“If the commander falls sound asleep in the middle of an operation, it will cause serious problems, won’t it.”
“If you insist that you can still give proper command with that exhausted head and body of yours, then by all means keep sleeping.”
“…………”
Angie’s argument is perfectly correct. It is so correct that I cannot even argue back, which makes it extremely irritating.
The heroes that frequently appear in stories are usually heavy drinkers, womanizers, fearless braggarts overflowing with raw power. It is a very common pattern for the boys who admire those kinds of heroes and then join the military to actually have the lowest aptitude for being real soldiers.
Steadfastness in carrying out assigned duties, a certain cowardice that lets you sense danger early, the administrative ability to properly manage ammunition and rations, the two-faced nature that allows you to carry out disgusting tasks without ever changing your expression.
Soldiers are forced to perform contradictory behaviors, such as throwing themselves completely into rest so they can recover stamina in the shortest possible time. The ones who can earnestly execute that contradiction are the good soldiers.
The talents demanded of heroes and the talents demanded of soldiers are fundamentally different things. As a child I admired the heroes in stories, but the side I actually had talent for was being a soldier, the path I chose simply to put food on the table.
After taking off my adventure clothes, I relaxed my body and emptied my mind, then focused solely on breathing correctly.
The fact that one can fall asleep easily just by doing this is the talent of a good soldier.
If possible, it would be ideal to have a few hours pass after eating and to finish bathing before going to bed for the best rest, but in this situation that’s simply impossible.
Even so, I can feel that my body, which had been worn down by combat and reconnaissance to about fifty percent, has recovered to around seventy percent.
I’m no longer young, so it’s sad that my recovery power has declined, but still, I’ve managed to return to a considerably better condition than before I slept.
“…How much time has passed since the meal?”
“Roughly three hours. When I went to check on you after the meal, you were already asleep.”
“I slept that long?”
“You were sleeping so soundly that you didn’t even notice me lying right beside you the whole time.”
“I really am getting old, huh.”
It seems the decline has truly begun in earnest.
In my younger days, no matter how exhausted I was, I would sense it immediately if a child entered the room, and if someone was sleeping next to me I would wake up instantly.
It’s already been two days since Angie became small, but back then I could easily pull off two all-nighters in a row without issue.
In these two days, what I’ve done is: rescue Angie from the ruins, then handle various arrangements and deal with the children at the same time, get the family to safety first, wait for the enemy while preparing for battle, conduct combat and interrogation, and after that, walk around the floating island nonstop until morning, monitoring the town and the fortresses.
I’m sure I took many short naps and breaks in between, yet the exhaustion in my brain just won’t go away and my body still feels heavy.
The number one wish I want God to grant me right now is “for Angie to return to normal,” but coming in at a solid second place is “to take a long bath and sleep without thinking about anything.”
“You’ve been sleeping right next to me the whole time? That’s no good. If something happens while Angie is beside me, who’s supposed to deal with it?”
“The older children are doing their best. Well, I wasn’t actually sleeping the entire time either, and I ordered them to report any urgent matters to me.”
“Don’t make the kids take care of the kids. They’re still little children, you know.”
“At the very least, their physical age is higher than mine right now. Besides, Lionel and Ariel are already fifteen. Both of them are capable of doing work appropriate to their age.”
“Angie, You’re trusting them too much. Even at fifteen, they’re still young masters and young ladies who should be under their parents’ protection.”
“Didn’t you yourself leave home and enlist in the kingdom’s army at the same age?”
There you go again, bringing up a very special case.
I’m one of the most heretical among the nobility of Holfort Kingdom. If you present someone like me as if I were the standard, it has zero persuasiveness.
But I deliberately chose not to argue back. From long years of married life, I somehow know that if we keep talking like this, it will turn into an argument.
If a unit in a special situation develops a bad relationship, even battles that should be winnable will end up lost.
So for now, I withdraw. This is a tactical retreat.
It is absolutely not because I, myself, was talked down to by a tiny Angie.
While telling myself that, I straightened my posture and somehow managed to calm my strangely racing heart.
“Anyway, what’s with that outfit?”
“You’re the one who always says you can’t sleep unless I’m beside you.”
Ever since we got married, whenever we could spend time together we’ve slept in the same bed, and I’ve whispered that sweet line many times.
But that was always under the premise that Angie and I are a couple of the same generation.
In any country, a man who sleeps together with a ten-year-old girl as his wife would be treated as a pervert. Even if it’s mutual love, criticism and condemnation from society cannot be avoided.
I have three daughters and they’re all adorable, but there is naturally a difference in how one should treat a ten-year-old daughter versus a wife who has become ten years old.
My head understands that the girl in front of me is definitely my wife Angie, yet no matter what, my usual way of interacting with her changes, and even I myself am confused.
“Of course that’s true, but deliberately stripping down to underwear is a bit much, don’t you think?”
“It’s not so different from my usual nightwear.”
“There’s a huge difference between sleeping next to my usual adult-looking wife and sleeping next to a girl who looks ten years old from every angle and calling her my wife.”
“What a strange thing. I am me. I am still Angelica Fou Bartfort, Countess, and yet my husband treats me in such a distant manner.”
“…”
That’s an unfair way to put it. I somehow managed to swallow the words that had risen to the back of my throat.
With Angie, who is far sharper than most wives or noble daughters out there, any clumsy excuse won’t work anyway.
No matter how many excuses and twisted rationalizations I come up with to avoid worrying her, she will surely notice from my easy-to-read attitude.
It was a mistake to leave her alone and run around everywhere when her body had only just shrunk and she must have actually been anxious.
I always think I’m doing my best in my own way, but for someone as ordinary as me, gathering information, defeating villains, and protecting a princess at the same time is too difficult.
There are many things I have to do, but the things I can actually do are limited.
I really don’t understand why people in the world overestimate me so much. For now, the one thing I can do is hold Angie’s small body and ease her anxiety.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Making up for it since Angie looked lonely.”
“Stop it. I haven’t permitted that much.”
“We haven’t done the morning kiss and hug yet today, have we?”
“W-Wait, stop—”
I hug the shrunken Angie’s body from behind. The completely different thickness and weight compared to usual still leave me unable to hide my confusion.
I have had the experience of gently holding newborn babies wrapped in cloth six times so far.
Each and every one of them had such a fragile presence that I was struck with terror at the thought that something could happen and they might die immediately, yet at the same time, a parental feeling of “I have to protect this baby” naturally welled up inside me.
Even so, after a few years they grow so much that just holding them becomes quite a task, and you gain the conviction that as long as you are careful about injuries and illness, they won’t die.
But in Angie’s case, it’s a completely different story.
After all, the first time I met her she was already over seventeen years old and felt almost like an adult; in fact, because of her refined behavior, she even looked older than her actual age.
When I visited the Redgrave family mansion in the royal capital, they showed me photos of Angie when she was little, and back then Angie certainly had the appropriate childishness for her age.
The current Angie has the appearance of a child, but that doesn’t mean her personality or memories have become childish. On the contrary, precisely because nothing has changed, she is difficult to deal with.
I had convinced myself that I was desperately trying to return Angie to her original form, but perhaps in reality I had been unconsciously averting my eyes from the changed Angie all this time.
It is only natural that Angie’s mood would worsen after sensitively sensing such an attitude from me, so at the very least I have to make up for it somehow.
“Your body feels so light. Are you actually eating properly?”
“There’s no way my figure would change from just a few meals!”
“But it’s strange, isn’t it.”
“What is?!”
“Even though you’re such a skinny young lady right now, after more than ten years your breasts and hips grew big and voluptuous. The human body is really amazing.”
“Like father-in-law, does the bloodline of the Bartfort family just prefer buxom women?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Childbirth is life-threatening, places a huge burden on the mother’s body, and there is also the possibility that the figure will collapse afterward. How many times do you think I became pregnant after marrying you?”
“… Four times.”
“And how many children were born?”
“Six, right.”
“It was just a coincidence. I was simply born with and raised in an unusually sturdy body that could endure several childbirths, and that’s the only reason it went smoothly. You probably don’t know how much effort I put into beauty and health care outside of official duties, do you, Leon?”
“No, sorry… But we need a son to succeed the family, and the children who were born are cute too, so please forgive me.”
“I’m saying there are limits!”
“Yes.”
Why am I being scolded this much?
It’s understandable that Angie’s mood is bad, but I’m scared that it might spread to other topics too.
Even so, I try to soothe Angie somehow and gently hold her body. The sensation is quite different from usual, but the characteristically high body temperature of a child feels warm and cozy.
If I could fall back asleep just like this while holding Angie, it would be blissful.
“A young body is surprisingly not so bad. If you think of it as having rejuvenated while keeping your intellect and memories intact, it could even be called a benefit.”
“Eh, Angie, are you really okay with that?”
“There is no more shoulder stiffness from heavy breasts, and there is no need to have clothes newly tailored every time my measurements change with age. We already have six children; that is more than enough for an heir and for marriages with other houses.”
“Is that really the reason?”
“There is also the added advantage that I can be held by someone and wake up without showing any disgrace. It is truly nothing but advantages.”
“That’s why I said I’m sorry.”
Angie is strangely listing the advantages of her small body, but there is no way that is the whole truth. To live as a noble, interaction with others is absolutely unavoidable.
Those others can be royalty, fellow nobles, sometimes merchants; and for a territorial noble, the idea of governing well while ignoring the common people is simply absurd.
Is it possible that Angie, who has such a strong sense of responsibility, hasn’t noticed something that even I can think of?
There is no way that could be true. Even right now she is carrying on a conversation with me perfectly, so her mind is clearly sharp.
In other words, there is something behind Angie’s words. I at least have enough perceptiveness to notice that much.
“Angie, is it really okay even if you don’t return to your original body? Or am I just imagining that that’s how it sounded?”
“I was simply stating the advantages. It is hasty to interpret it that way.”
“That’s a lie.”
I immediately deny Angie’s words.
Certainly Angie is a very intelligent and beautiful woman, and at the same time she is also a strong-willed and proud woman.
When she tries to persuade me by listing various advantages, there are two possibilities:
Either she is genuinely trying to lead me to the correct decision, or she is deliberately saying the opposite in order to hide her true feelings.
For an ordinary person, they would want to return to their original appearance. The fact that Angie is not saying so is probably because she has already considered the uproar that would occur in order to return to her original body.
“If Angie were the kind of woman who cared only about money and beauty, you would be genuinely delighted from the bottom of your heart.”
“Why do you jump to such simplistic conclusions?”
“How many decades do you think we’ve been husband and wife? To begin with, if you were a truly selfish young lady, you would never have married into a house started by an ugly upstart like me.”
“Leon, you are strangely sharp only in certain areas. Normally you are slow on the uptake.”
“It’s the fault of the good wife who kept educating her slow-witted husband all this time. Otherwise I would have remained a gullible idiot.”
Even the biggest fool, if he lives together with someone for decades, will eventually become able to pick up on at least some of the other person’s subtleties.
Angie appears to be making situational judgments based on abundant knowledge and multifaceted perspectives, but in reality she has quite a strong emotional side.
When it comes to things she doesn’t want to do or people she dislikes, she attaches all sorts of reasons to refuse involvement, and whenever she absolutely has to do something, I have seen many times how desperately she works to come up with reasons to convince herself.
Probably Angie herself would never admit it, but her deeply affectionate yet quite selfish Young Lady personality hasn’t changed much since the old days.
That’s why I always have to humble myself in order to get her to reveal her true feelings. Honestly there are many times when it pisses me off, but this is what you call the weakness of being in love.
“Just now I talked with Yumelia and it made me think a little. Immortality and longevity aren’t all good things.”
“Oh? What kind of talk?”
“She said that continuously watching her son grow up and then grow old is painful. I haven’t yet experienced the sorrow or suffering of having a loved one die before me, so I can’t imagine it. But just imagining Leon and the children passing away before me is enough to make my chest feel like it’s going to tear apart.”
“Then just say honestly that you want to go back to normal. That would make things easier.”
“If I look like a heartless woman who would happily send her beloved husband off to the battlefield, then I am truly offended. Not once in the past have I ever felt good about Leon heading to the battlefield or a mission.”
“I’m the opposite. For Angie and the children’s sake, I wouldn’t mind throwing away my own life at all.”
“Precisely because you have that kind of personality, I cannot carelessly say out loud ‘I want to return to my original appearance.’”
“Sorry.”
This part clearly shows the difference in our personalities and upbringings.
We’ve had similar arguments over this kind of topic many times before, so I don’t really want to dig deeper into it.
To me, who was raised practically like a commoner, my own life is treated like the principal in a gamble. If I don’t bet it, I end up getting nothing.
On the other hand, Angie, who was among the top dozens in the Holfort Kingdom, was thoroughly instilled with the idea that life is precious.
Normally she thinks that even dozens of commoners’ lives wouldn’t be enough as a substitute, yet as someone responsible for war or politics, if she fails she has to take responsibility.
I really feel the difference in how we were raised. Even after spending decades as husband and wife, bridging differences in values is more difficult than negotiating with a shrewd merchant or conducting peace talks between nations.
“Anyway, the situation is stricter than I thought. We need to change our approach.”
“Knowing you, no matter what, you’re probably planning to come up with some reckless strategy.”
“As expected, Angie sees right through me.”
“For now I’ll at least hear you out. Whether I accept it depends on the content.”
“Got it. Then for a while, can I keep holding Angie like this?”
“Stop it. Why does it turn out like that?”
“I told you the reason earlier, didn’t I?”
While forcibly embracing the rejecting Angie, I calm my mind.
Once I explain the strategy details, Angie will surely get angry. So before that happens, I need to improve her mood as much as possible.
I bury my face in Angie's shoulder and inhale her scent. It’s a little different from usual, but it is unmistakably Angie’s scent.
Even though I know the girl right in front of me is Angie herself, she feels like a completely different person.
Just imagining this situation continuing until the day I die is enough to drive me mad.
That’s why, to return Angie to normal, I will carry out any means necessary, even if Angie herself gets angry at me.
“Cut it out already!!”
Right after I renewed my determination, a small fist sank into my face.
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Authors Note
┻━━━━━━━━━━┻
The illustrations for this chapter were drawn by Hanatori-sama. Thank you very much. (Pixiv)
This is the chapter about Leon and young Angie’s interactions.
To avoid the visuals becoming too sensitive, the skinship is kept somewhat light.
The next chapter will be the Bartfort family’s strategy meeting, where they discuss future courses of action.
I apologize for the late posting due to poor health. Please take care of your own health as well, everyone.
Addendum: At the commissioner’s request, illustrations were drawn by Suzuhara Shion-sama, DRO-sama, Oswani-sama, and (7월 서코) Gamjasak-sama.
Also, an illustration previously drawn by 9430-sama has been posted on pixiv.
Thank you so much.
Suzuhara Shion-sama Pixiv
DRO-sama Pixiv
Oswani-sama Pixiv (Adult content warning)
(7월 서코) Gamjasak-sama Pixiv
9430-sama Pixiv
I would appreciate any opinions or impressions you may have, as they will serve as encouragement for the future.
~~~End~~~