The Retired Supporting Character Wants to Live Quietly-Chapter 191
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
Chapter 191 – Kirrin’s Black Forest (14)
"From that moment on, I started calling her Maman."
Gazing up at the night sky, Sharian spoke, her voice thick with unshed tears.
"In her homeland, children call their mothers Maman."
There was so much affection and longing in her voice that even I felt as though I might cry.
"I’m sorry to ask, but… from what I’ve heard, Maman was quite young. How… did she pass away?"
"Ah, that."
Crunch.
Sharian wiped her eyes roughly with her sleeve and clenched her teeth.
###
After Professor Dian and the others had left—
Nemara sat alone, absentmindedly touching his eyepatch, lost in thought.
He had heard plenty about this Dian through the Emperor.
A longtime friend of Sir Linus, the Hero, who had played a key role throughout the war.
A specialist in infiltration and assassination, a core member of the Demon King Execution Task Force, and someone who had excelled in numerous other missions.
After the war, he had refused all official rewards, taken only a sizable payout, and vanished.
Then, ten years later, he suddenly reappeared—taking the position of Combat Head Professor at the Special Mission Academy where Kirrin was Headmaster.
Originally, the Second Princess had intended to remove Kirrin and appoint Professor Dian as Headmaster instead, but he had declined.
It was said that he only accepted the position in the first place because of Sir Linus’s request, meaning he had no personal ambition for leadership.
A man with no interest in authority.
That explained why he had refused the Empire’s rewards and disappeared in the first place.
At first, Nemara had assumed the stories were somewhat exaggerated.
But after meeting Dian in person, he realized the Emperor had not overstated a single word.
The man standing before him had an aura that was almost inhuman.
Even here, deep within the Black Forest—the heart of dark elf territory—he showed no signs of unease.
Instead, he had threatened Nemara without hesitation.
Years ago, Nemara had met Sir Linus in the Imperial Capital, back when he was Captain of the Royal Guard.
At the time, even Nemara had felt a certain pressure from Linus’s presence—
But it wasn’t like this.
If Linus had come instead of Dian, it might have actually been preferable.
Linus was a predictable man.
He operated within the moral codes and rational principles that most of the continent considered right.
Linus had clear lines he would not cross, and unless someone forced him beyond those lines, he would never resort to violence.
Dian, however… was different.
Utterly unpredictable.
Which made him dangerous.
As someone who had lived as an assassin for so many years, Nemara could sense it.
Was he truly supposed to send Kirrin to a man like that?
Objectively speaking, Dian was not a bad match.
Even though he was a different race, Nemara could see no particular flaws in the man’s appearance.
And despite his past being heavily classified, his career was nothing short of exceptional.
His current occupation was stable, both socially and financially.
By all logical measures, he was more than adequate.
But…
Nemara’s fingers drifted back to his eyepatch as his remaining eye turned toward a small side table.
On it lay an old bouquet of flowers.
Dried, withered, so aged that its shape was barely distinguishable.
A brittle, crumbling thing that looked more like a broom of dead twigs than a bouquet.
…Am I making the right choice?
"Nemara!"
A bright voice suddenly broke through his thoughts.
A small human woman stood there, beaming, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands.
"Look at this! I found them blooming all over the forest’s edge!"
"Marian…?"
Nemara’s eye widened slightly in surprise.
"It must be because it’s spring. Even in the Black Forest, flowers bloom. Proof that this is still a land where people live, don’t you think?"
Marian lifted the bouquet, showing it off.
"A gift for you, Nemara. If you put it next to the shelf, it’ll brighten up the room."
She walked toward the shelf lined with bones, intending to place the bouquet there.
But she never got the chance.
Nemara strode forward and knocked the bouquet from her hands.
The flowers scattered, petals floating through the air.
"Stop your foolishness, human."
His voice was cold.
"You are nothing but a hostage. The only reason you’re alive is because I still need to collect your ransom. Know your place."
"But Nemara."
Despite her ruined bouquet, Marian remained cheerful.
"Just because I’m a hostage doesn’t mean I have to be miserable all the time."
Even now, she still wasn’t upset.
To Nemara, it was clear as day—she was faking it.
A ploy.
She was trying to manipulate him, make him lower his guard.
Dark elves saw through such false cheer easily.
And it irritated him.
He wanted to crush whatever hope she had left.
"You were kidnapped. Dragged here against your will. Your fate is entirely in your captor’s hands."
Nemara’s voice was firm.
"No matter what you do, it won’t change a thing."
"Exactly."
Marian answered easily, cheerfully gathering the fallen flowers and weaving them back together.
"Which is why I’d rather do something. Since I can’t change my situation, isn’t it better to find something I can do, instead of sitting in a corner crying?"
She smiled.
Once again, Nemara felt an unfamiliar unease creep in.
He had taken on a very troublesome hostage.
Marian had been captured as part of a noble’s request.
She was the daughter of a rival faction—meant to serve as leverage in upcoming negotiations.
But that was all human politics.
Nemara only cared about the payment.
"Here, Nemara. It’s just flowers."
Marian extended the bouquet toward him.
"No poison. No hidden daggers. Just simple wildflowers to brighten up your room."
When he didn’t take them, she placed them among the skulls on the shelf.
"Remove them. Before I crush them underfoot."
"You won’t do that."
Marian smiled knowingly.
"I know you won’t. You act scary, but that’s just an act, isn’t it?"
"Arrogant."
"It’s not arrogance. It’s certainty. You’ve let me roam free this whole time, haven’t you?"
"Holding you here weakens your ransom value. And watching over a mere human is a waste of my warriors’ time."
"Yet you don’t even bother keeping an eye on me?"
"Monitoring you would be inefficient."
The clan was still in chaos from the leadership transition.
To reestablish control, Nemara had been taking on back-to-back assassination contracts, keeping his people too busy to cause trouble.
Better to keep them exhausted than let them think too much.
"Hmm. I see."
Marian nodded as if she didn’t believe him.
That irked him.
A hostage had no right to look at him like that.
She should have been terrified, desperate, withdrawn.
Instead, she was roaming the forest, chatting with his children, even making them toys.
Just now, she had clearly gone to the forest’s edge to pick these flowers.
Which meant she had taken Sharian and Zakrion with her.
She couldn’t have gone that far alone.
Her influence was a problem.
She was an outsider corrupting future assassins.
That needed to be stopped.
Just then, Marian placed the bouquet neatly among the skulls.
"There. I’ll leave them here."
"Wait."
As she turned to leave, Nemara stopped her.
"The forest’s edge… is dangerous. From now on, take someone with you."
She blinked at him.
Then, she grinned.
"Alright! I’ll ask Drebren!"
"…Do as you wish."
After Marian bounced away with her usual lighthearted steps—
Nemara remained standing in silence, staring at the bouquet nestled among the skulls. freёwebnoѵel.com
Flowers. In the room of the dark elf chieftain.
They didn’t belong here.
Especially now.
He had only just secured his position as chieftain by slaughtering or exiling his own siblings.
The clan was still unsettled, and it was up to him to establish authority, to maintain absolute control.
Something like this had no place here.
What would the others think if they saw it?
Nemara picked up the bouquet—
And, unbidden, a memory surfaced.
Marian’s smile.
Damn it.
He muttered a quiet curse and stopped himself from crushing the flowers.
Instead, he shoved them deep into the farthest corner of the side table.
Now then.
He needed to summon Drebren and order him to keep their younger siblings in check.
"You called for me, Father."
At his summons, young Drebren rushed in, dropping to his knees in a respectful bow.
"…Drebren. Have your younger siblings been—"
Nemara had been about to reprimand him.
But then he stopped.
His gaze landed on Drebren’s ear.
Tucked behind it was a small wildflower.
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
