Calendar of Seasons

Still gripping his temples, Seven paced the room.

The memories of the original Seven didn't matter as he was now the one in control and change the messy past.

"This body is fifteen…"

He slowed his pacing, trying to recall how the dates in this world worked.

"Wait! How long was I asleep?"

Seven remembered waking up in this world on the seventh day of the seventh season. But what day was it now? What year?

Glancing around, he realized there was no calendar in the room.

"System."

Seven called out. A system was the gift he was given, so he better utilize it well.

"What's the date today?"

[Date: 17th day of the Seventh Season, Year 770.]

"10 days… had passed...?"

Finally, he remembered how the date works. It was because he once asked the author about Seven's birthday so he could buy him a cake.

Ironically, the author also replied.

The topic quickly became a subject of debate in the forum.

The community's arguments did make some sense. Why the 53rd when there's literally 7th to match the sevenfold's rhyme.

Or at least it did until the author clarified: 

Sigh.

Seven only had thirty-six days remaining before the ceremony for his sixteenth birthday. And within the timeframe, he must open an aura gate or abandoned by this swordsman lineage, Hart.

"I guess I should plan to open one—"

Ding!

[Anomaly Detected.]

[The extra character fated to die to trigger a major character's development had survived. A revision is required.]

[Revising…]

[Replacing the original storyline…]

[Revision complete.]

[You have obtained 7777 Narrative Points.]

Narrative points.

It was now the second time it had appeared, following a revision notification. Yet, there was no description or explanation. 

"Where do I even use it?" 

Normally, a shop icon would accompany such features, offering options for their use. But this time, there was nothing.

"Tch."

Seven frowned, staring at the notification. After a few seconds, he let out a sigh and sat up straight on his bed, crossed-legs.

Creak.

The door suddenly creaked open, drawing his attention. He turned his gaze toward it as a servant carrying a tray stepped inside.

He recognized it immediately. It was the same one who had guided him when he first woke up in the courtyard.

Their eyes met.

"Young lord, you're... awake...?"

The tray slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a sharp clatter. The cup shattered, and the faint aroma of herbs filled the air. Yet, she seemed oblivious to the mess, her wide eyes fixed on Seven.

Seven blinked, unsure how to respond as the servant rushed toward him. Without hesitation, she began examining his body, her hands darting over his arms, torso, and head.

"...?"

Her frantic movements only stopped when the bandages wrapped around Seven's body loosened and fell away.

The scar from the slab was gone.

The servant smiled warmly.

Once again, Seven tilted his head slightly, unsure whether to say something or let her process everything. One thing, however, was clear to him—the servant was the one to heal him during his unconscious days.

His suspicions were confirmed as the system reappeared above her head:

[Name: Iria]

[Main Talent: Healing]

[Characteristic: Unrealistic altruism. Iria will put other people first before herself.]

"She's not a reader..." 

Seven murmured to himself.

Readers didn't have detailed characteristics like this. Instead, they only carried vague descriptions, like '??? Reader.' And unlike Iria, readers possessed gifts, such as his protagonist system.

"...I can tell readers apart, huh?"

Seven's constricted eyes stared blankly at nothing, and Iria glanced at him with concern.

"Young lord, are you... okay?"

Seven remained silent, lost in his thoughts.

"Young lord...?" 

"Ah, yes?"

"I asked if you were okay..."

"...I am."

The reply felt awkward, and the words rolled clumsy on his tongue. 

Iria stared at him for a moment before letting out a relieved sigh. She understood that, having just woken up, Seven might not be in the mood for a long conversation. 

Still, she couldn't stop herself from asking more questions.

"Young lord, do you feel any pain? You've been unconscious for seven days until just earlier. But when I came back, you were suddenly wide awake! Is there anything I can help you with? I can heal you. Do you feel any pain?"

Iria's words came out in a rapid-fire stream, as though she were rapping. The only thing missing were beats and drums.

"W-What...? I'm okay,"

Iria's expression softened, and she relaxed her shoulders. 

"Thank goodness."

They continued talking for a while—or rather, Iria did most of the talking. She bombarded him with countless questions, while Seven's responses remained short and awkward, rarely exceeding two or three words.

Conversations had never been his strong suit, even back on Earth. And now, in this world of a novel he entered, it felt even more foreign.

Though he couldn't fully understand it, he could sense that Iria's kindness seemed genuine. 

"Young lord, I almost forgot. Lady Eden asked me to deliver a message."

"Sister did? What did she say?"

"For you to visit the knights' training grounds once you woke up."

"Training... grounds?"

"Yes."

Seven frowned. Why would Eden Hart want to meet him there so suddenly? Was this part of the original story, or another change caused by his survival?

But Iria continued to chatter, oblivious to the thoughts swirling in Seven's mind.

Thankfully, her focus shifted when her gaze fell to the shattered tray on the floor. Her expression froze, then turned tomato-red with embarrassment.

"Ah!" 

Iria gasped. 

"The tea!"

Seven followed her gaze and saw the broken pieces of the cup and the puddle of liquid spreading across the floor.

"Was that... herbal tea?" 

Though he already knew the answer, he still asked. It was one of the most commonly mentioned drinks in the novel, beloved by nobles and commoners alike.

Iria bowed deeply. Multiple times. In rapid succession. 

"Yes, Young Lord. I... I apologize. I'll clean this up right away!"

Iria scrambled to gather the broken pieces. Seven watched her silently, unsure whether to help or stay out of her way. 

In the end, he chose the latter.

After a few minutes, Iria finished cleaning up the mess. She stood, bowing once again. 

"Thank you for being patient, Young Lord. I'll take my leave now."

Iria turned towards the door.

"Don't forget what Lady Eden asked you!"

Before Seven could respond, she paused again in the doorway.

"Oh, one more thing!"

"...What is it?"

"I heard Lady Eden is going on a big mission soon. You might not get another chance to see her before she leaves."

"...?"

Without waiting for a reply, she stepped out and closed the door behind her. 

Seven sat in silence.

'A mission? That detail wasn't in the novel… at least, not that I remember. What kind of mission would involve Eden?'

Seven frowned. 

'Is this because of me? Because I—'

Creak.

The door opened slightly, and Iria peeked her head back inside.

"Oh, and Young Lord... I'm glad you're awake."

Iria didn't wait for a response and closed the door again.

"Glad...?" 

Seven leaned back against the bed's headboard. He exhaled deeply.

"...Glad I'm awake, huh?"