4.
Marigold's condition was strange.
She hadn't seemed entirely normal lately, but this time was particularly odd.
Lancel gazed out the window at Baron Zenith's garden.
"Huff! Ha! Huff! Ha!"
Marigold was running across the lawn, but it wasn't quite a leisurely jog.
Instead, she was running on all fours.
‘Has she regressed into some type of animal again?’
The scene overlapped with the countless times Lancel had witnessed this during Marigold's time as a barbaric, wild woman.
Lancel couldn't shake the anxiety that she might run off into the forest again, but thankfully, that didn't happen.
Marigold only exhibited such behavior when she was alone and could relax without being observed.
Lancel knew this well, as she would immediately feign innocence whenever he approached, acting as if nothing had happened.
"Ahem, you were in the mansion, Sir Lancel."
"...Yeah, more or less."
"Would you like some tea?"
"Please."
Without even bothering to remove the traces of her recent animalistic frenzy from her clothes, Marigold brewed hibiscus tea, her expression brazen.
‘Since her Magic Affinity stat appeared, has she just given up on being human?’
Of course, that was absurd. No matter how kaleidoscopic Marigold's variations might be, she couldn't alter her fundamental traits as a human.
How could bloodline, which was determined at birth, be changed? If such a thing were possible, Marigold would be a divine being in some sense.
"Miss Marigold."
"Yes, Sir Lancel?"
"Come over here."
"Huh?"
But the strangeness didn't end there.
"Sir Lancel, you're a knight, aren't you? Don't you ever attend parties?"
"Sorry, I must seem so boring. Bring your head closer."
"That's not what I meant... Ah!"
Lancel plucked the leaf that Marigold had been wearing on the crown of her head since that morning.
He'd been watching it dangle there for half the day, finally losing patience and reaching out.
Suddenly finding herself in Lancel's arms, Marigold began to fidget nervously.
"S-Sir Lancel? Why are you doing this so suddenly...?"
"...? Why isn't it falling off?"
"Wait, wait a minute! You're too close..."
"Hold still." With a firm tug, the leaf detached with a soft pop and fluttered to the ground.
"Ouch!"
Marigold, her eyes brimming with tears, glared at him reproachfully.
"Ugh, how could you suddenly pull a lady's hair like that, Sir Lancel?"
"No, it wasn't hair..?"
Lancel panicked, glancing between the leaf in his hand and Marigold.
What he held in his hand was definitely a leaf—a vibrant, newly sprouted one, still tender and green.
"Look. This came from your head."
"Huh?" Marigold took the leaf with a puzzled expression.
"Are you saying I'm a plant?"
"How did you get that idea?"
"Maybe you pulled it out with my hair?"
"...Is that so?"
Until then, they had dismissed it as a strange occurrence and moved on.
But the same thing happened again.
"Ouch!"
Lancel carefully examined the newly plucked sprout and said, "Mary, it seems like leaves are growing from your head."
"Surely not... Could it be a fruit seed I ate recently that’s now sprouting inside my body?"
It was a ridiculous suggestion, but Lancel didn't bother refuting it.
He had no other explanation.
‘Could her Magic Affinity be increasing to the point where she’s gradually losing her humanity?’
That thought dominated his mind, even though it was impossible.
"Another one sprouted?"
"Ah, oh no!"
As they finally plucked the third sprout from Marigold's head, their expressions grew increasingly grave.
"Sir Lancel, does this mean I can't eat fruit anymore?"
"Don't talk nonsense. It couldn't possibly be the fruit. Were you really worried about that? Is that why you looked so gloomy?"
"...The fruit I secretly ate before dawn last week... could it have grown into this?"
"Seeds swallowed through your mouth can't possibly sprout from the top of your head. Stop saying such absurd things. Just refrain from eating fruit late at night—it's bad for your health."
Leaves were growing from Marigold's body.
It wasn't just her imagination.
It was actually growing.
"There's nothing we can do about it."
Lancel gripped Marigold's shoulders, his gaze serious.
"Don't tell anyone, and pluck them out every time they appear. That's the only way."
"Eek!"
"Don't worry. It'll only sting for a moment. What if someone finds out and starts calling you 'the human who grows plants'? You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"Hmm, you're right..."
"Come here."
"Hiiiiek!"
That week, Lancel plucked five leaves from Marigold's hair.
‘What would happen if I didn't pluck them and let them keep growing?’
The thought briefly crossed his mind.
‘She wouldn't turn into a tree, would she?’
Lancel forcefully shook off the terrifying image.
5.
Fortunately, aside from the grass growing in her hair, no other strange phenomena occurred.
"Remember this," Lancel warned Marigold sternly, as the only person who shared her secret.
"Check the mirror every morning and pluck them out consistently. There's no good reason to walk around with grass in your hair and risk being discovered. Understand?"
"If I just let them grow... would that be so bad?"
"I won't stop you. But you'll end up as a test subject for some nameless magic academy."
"......!"
"...Torture, dissection, dark magic, research materials, human experimentation, flame reaction—"
"I'll pluck them out every day! Every single day!"
Good. As long as she endured a little stinging each morning, there would be no problems at all.
All that remained were Marigold's beast-like habits.
"Wooooooo!"
Strange howls that echoed during every bath.
"Don't just eat fruit, try some other foods too."
"...Yes..."
"And hurry up and give the fruit on your plate to Sir Lancel. Now."
"......"
"What's wrong with you?"
"I already gave it to him! I did!"
'......'
Or the times she would pick out only the fruit prepared for dessert during meals, earning a scolding from Baron Zenith.
"Hwaaaah!"
Woof! Woof!
Meeeeow!
Squeak!
Whenever she had free time on holidays, Marigold would chase after dogs, cats, and mice on all fours.
"Mary! What's the state of your clothes? If anyone sees you like this, my reputation will be dragged through the mud!"
"I-I'm so sorry!"
"Arggh, you immature brat! Go change into clean clothes right now!"
"Yes, Master!"
"Ugh, you clumsy fool!"
"Ack!"
Baron Zenith would often rap her knuckles for getting her clothes completely filthy.
‘She’s supposed to be a wizard’s apprentice?’
Fortunately, she had recently begun to realize that her behavior was utterly unbecoming of a wizard.
"Mary, frankly, you're being quite undignified."
"Even Sir Lancel...!"
Marigold seemed genuinely shocked by Lancel's blunt remark.
After that, her barbaric "animalistic behavior" gradually began to noticeably decrease.
Woof! Woof!
"......!"
Marigold still couldn't help but jerk her head toward the occasional animal sounds, but once she began to regain her composure, it was only a matter of moments before she returned to her usual, dignified self.
All that remained was an unresolved question.
‘A creature with leaves sprouting from its head, instincts like a savage, and a diet somewhere between that of a human, stag beetle, and herbivore…’
It wasn't long before Lancel realized the true nature of this elusive being.
============
—Growth event! Marigold's lineage (human-demihuman hybrid) level has increased! Magic Affinity, Strength, and Charm has gone up!
============
"So it's real."
Marigold.
A hybrid mix of human and demihuman.
It was a secret of birth that had never been revealed in the game.
.
.
.
"Sir Lancel, Mary has learned magic."
"Is that true?"
That morning, Lancel was greeted by a visibly astonished Baron Zenith.
"Yes. Come and see for yourself."
Lancel hurried into the baron’s mansion. At the center of the study, he saw Marigold standing motionless with her eyes closed.
Magical powers swirled around her, enveloping her entire body. Her robes and hair billowed in the air.
"She's in a state of magical power concentration. This means she's reached the First Rank."
The compass in Marigold's hand had spun a full circle, confirming her status as a First Rank wizard.
This transformation had occurred in just a few weeks.
"Now, if we teach her the basic spells step by step, she'll be able to master them easily. She'll also pass the academy entrance exam without difficulty. And she'll be able to assist with my research."
Baron Zenith was visibly moved. Despite his pride, he couldn't help but feel deeply impressed by the achievements of his disciple.
"I never expected her to display such extraordinary magical talent. Isn't fate truly a miracle, Sir Lancel? For both Marigold and you, my dear boy."
"A miracle..."
A talent that transcended human limitations.
As Lancel watched the magic powers swirling around Marigold, a shiver ran down his spine.
An archmage.
‘Perhaps she has a talent worth aiming for.’
"...Sir Lancel! Master!"
Tears streamed from Marigold's eyes as she broke free from her magical concentration—tears of overwhelming joy.
"Well done, my disciple!"
Just months before the academy entrance exams, Marigold had finally become a wizard.
6.
That night, Lancel tossed and turned in bed for hours, unable to fall asleep until dawn. He gazed at the unusually bright moon through the wide-open window of his room.
‘Marigold's lineage. Demihuman.’ The thought continued to nag at him. Demihumans weren't a single race but instead had countless varieties. What exactly was her lineage?
Despite having spent so much time with Marigold, Lancel realized little he knew about her.
By the time he had regressed, five years had already passed since the family of Count Marigold had fallen into complete ruin.
The family of Count Marigold, branded as traitors, had been erased from the records with an unnatural thoroughness. Only the vague notion that "it's best not to inquire" lingered among the older noble houses.
‘Marigold.’
Her own forgotten past. The secret of her birth. The downfall and tragedy of Count Marigold's House. And Marigold, the fallen noblewoman, wandering alone…
As Lancel’s thoughts chased each other endlessly, sleep eluded him.
Click!
At that moment…
"...!"
Lancel swiftly drew the blade from beside his bed.
He reacted instantly, sensing a suspicious shadow looming by the window. He sprang up and retreated sharply.
‘There wasn’t even a sound…’
Even with his dulled senses, how could he have failed to notice someone so close?
Lancel glared sharply at the window.
A woman sat there, her golden hair shimmering like silver under the moonlight, weaving a luminous tapestry in the air.
Her tall frame, nearly 170cm in height, was draped in a robe of thin, soft silk that revealed every curve of her mature figure. A single horn, coiling like a ram's horn, spiraled from one side of her head.
Around the horn's elegant curve bloomed blue leaves and petals, making it resemble a meticulously cultivated sapling rather than a horn. Rather, perhaps it truly was a tree.
“Shhh.” The woman raised a finger to her lips, her eyes crinkling into a smile.
She stepped down from the windowsill and approached Lancel with soft, deliberate steps.
“...?!”
‘Why?’
He sensed an overwhelming force he couldn't possibly resist.
Her overwhelming presence froze Lancel stiff.
Just as he instinctively tried to back away, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.
"Mmph!"
Their lips met in a forced kiss.
Lancel's hair stood on end.
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