I can't see anything.

It feels like someone is choking me.

Even though I’m suffocating, my body doesn’t move, frozen like a frog being stared down by a snake.

Despite my obscured vision, I can feel the dampness.

Something is definitely flowing from my forehead.

Rain? No, it feels more viscous than water. This must be blood.

So, what’s my current state? Blood is flowing from my forehead, and I’m restrained by something unknown?

I tried to recall and piece together the situation in my mind.

I distinctly remember talking with Esteban in the drawing room, but my memory goes blank after that.

Was I attacked in the mansion?

By whom?

Could it be the craftsmen staging a rebellion?

Oh no, I’ve been working them to the bone for days, so I can’t really argue against that.

I overlooked how they’ve been rallying together since Krun joined. This is clearly my failure as the head of a black company.

“Ugh… I’ll switch to a six-day workweek, so let’s compromise…”

I barely managed to speak since my mouth could still move.

But no response came, so I strained to listen.

Snore, snore…

The soft sound of someone sleeping.

That’s when I realized something was off.

And as I forced my unresponsive body to react, it slowly began to move.

I struggled to lift my eyelids slightly.

What I saw was a chubby little foot pressing against my throat.

“…Ada?”

Even when I called her name, Ada remained fast asleep with her head resting on my forehead.

I realized that what was running down my forehead was Ada’s drool.

I could hardly understand what was happening as I struggled to sit up, carefully laying Ada down beside me.

“Alain!”

Even though I only raised my voice a bit, it felt as if my throat was tearing, and I could feel the pain.

“You’re awake, young master!”

“What on earth happened? My memory’s a bit hazy.”

Alain burst through the door upon hearing my voice.

He sighed in relief upon seeing me awake and rushed to my side, checking frantically if I was okay before calming down enough to answer my question.

Though his explanation was a bit incoherent, I gathered that I had fainted while talking with the merchant and that it was due to overwork.

“The Count has ordered that you must not leave your room until your health is fully restored.”

“Ah… well, I guess that’s inevitable. But why is Ada here, trying to assassinate me?”

If she wanted to sleep, wouldn’t it have been more comfortable to do so in her own room? Why did she try to choke me instead?

“Well… after seeing you collapse, she insisted that she could wake you up.”

Come to think of it, who in our house could possibly refuse Ada?

I looked at Ada lying beside me.

“Mmm… poisoned apple…”

Not knowing what dream she was having, she muttered incomprehensible words and puckered her lips like a pufferfish, looking so cute that I couldn’t resist pressing her cheek.

Anyway, it’s time to get back to work.

The Saintess will be visiting soon, so I need to prepare to paint her holy image, and I have to draft the storyboard for The Iron-Blooded Alchemist Volume 5. I have a mountain of work to do.

I also need to keep making the fairy tale books, so I’ll have to plan ahead to avoid falling behind.

Although my body still isn’t moving properly, I feel like I could get up if I drank a vitality potion.

“Alain, bring me a bottle of vitality potion.”

“That won’t be possible. Brother Manuel has already given his diagnosis.”

“What kind of diagnosis?”

Alain began to list off the diagnosis one by one.

First, no more vitality potions. Second, no entry to the studio. Third, a minimum of ten hours of sleep every day. Fourth, one hour of physical exercise every morning.

What are these ridiculous conditions?

If a person sleeps that much, they might as well be a bear!

No entry to the studio? I have a mountain of work to do; that’s nonsense.

And as for morning exercise, exercise is something you do as a show when you’re old and about to die, to reassure your body.

And above all, banning vitality potions? That’s absolutely intolerable.

There are many things I find unsatisfactory in this other world, but if I had to pick one thing I’m satisfied with, it’s definitely vitality potions.

A gift from the goddess to humanity, no doubt.

The exhilarating effect that makes all the energy drinks and stimulants I drank in the modern world seem like plain water.

And it even seems to improve my mood—it's practically a divine beverage.

Banning that?

This is tyranny. I wanted to argue with Alain right then and there, but my body wouldn’t cooperate, and it ended up being a futile attempt.

This Rupert… collapsing like this despite being a teenager?

Back in high school, I could stay up all night, go to school, survive evening classes, return home to play games on the computer, and still manage to go back to school the next day.

But here I am, unable to withstand this workload, even with a priest healing me. What’s going on?

“Alain… how could you… betray me?”

“It’s not betrayal, young master. You’re in a state where rest is absolutely necessary.”

“I still need to finish Volume 5 and paint the holy image; there’s no time to rest…”

“Young master, nothing will happen if you don’t do that.”

I was at a loss for words at Alain’s response.

Nothing will happen? How can that be?

If I miss just one day of my release schedule, there’ll be an uproar—from the editor’s constant pressure to the readers’ angry comments.

‘Oh, that’s right, there’s no editor here.’

I suddenly realized that I had never really thought about why I was so desperate to keep drawing.

At first, it was to create a gift for Ada.

Then, it was to restore the finances of our declining family.

But now, I could buy Ada all the toys she wanted, and our family’s finances were not just restored but stronger than they had been even in our prosperous days.

So, why was I working so hard on my drawings?

‘Because it’s fun.’

Thinking back, at some point, it stopped being about making money and became purely about the joy of creating fairy tale books and manga.

Like back in school, when I used to doodle little practice comics in my notebook and show them to my friends, excited to see their reactions.

I wanted to share the works I created with people as quickly as possible.

And I think it’s because, as a reader myself, I know how eagerly people await the next part of a story.

‘Maybe it’s because I’ve finally had some rest that I’m able to notice these things.’

It suddenly hit me how much I had been pushing myself like a racehorse all this time.

A racehorse that only looks ahead as it races down the track with narrowed vision.

I looked at Ada, who was still sleeping.

Alain, observing my actions, quietly spoke to me.

“Young master, you are the heir to the Somerset family now.”

—Please remember that to all of us in the family, you are someone we must protect with all our strength, even before you are the author of these books.

He was right.

If I can’t even make the people around me happy, how can I make my readers happy?

Now, only my father, Count Bradley, Ada, and I are left in the Somerset family.

The eldest son, Richard Somerset, has been missing for so long that everyone assumes he died in the war.

In this situation, if I were to collapse—or worse, die—Ada, who is still so young, might have to bear the responsibility of the family.

That’s something I absolutely cannot allow to happen.

I’ve made up my mind.

I will resume the exercise I had been avoiding out of laziness and build a healthy body like the knights of this world.

And since I’ve been overextending myself, it’s likely that the craftsmen are also exhausted. They’ll need to exercise with me.

If everyone in our household becomes healthier, the work pace will only get faster.

Then, both the people around me and the readers waiting for my work will be satisfied—wouldn’t that be the best outcome?

With that, my thoughts finally settled, and I felt relieved. Alain seemed pleased to see the relaxed expression on my face.

“You’ve finally understood, young master!”

“Sorry, Alain. I’ve caused you a lot of worry, but don’t worry anymore—I get it now.”

Alain, seemingly moved, wiped the tears forming at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.

Come to think of it, Alain is getting older too. I’ll have him exercise with me as well.

“They’ll definitely bring Nana back to life, I tell you!”

A man standing in line shouted, and many others agreed with him.

“Right? The author’s a person too—there’s no way they’d just let Nana’s story end like that.”

“It’s obvious the brothers will use the Philosopher’s Stone to bring her back! If not…”

I’ll punch that author in the face, even if it means going to jail!

He didn’t say the last part out loud, but the people around him could easily guess his unspoken words.

“So, what’s going to happen in Volume 4?”

“I bet it’ll be about the fight between the protagonist and Skull. That damn native from the west! What did Nana ever do to deserve this?”

“Hm… but if it were me, and I’d become such a horrible chimera, I might have preferred being put out of my misery.”

Thud!

The man who made the last comment suddenly found himself grabbed by the collar, and as he looked around in panic, he felt the murderous glares from all directions.

“Hey, kid… take that back.”

“I take it back!”

Thud!

With his quick retraction, the hand on his collar released him, and the menacing glares subsided, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

Recently, some The Iron-Blooded Alchemist readers, particularly the passionate fans, had started policing discussions about the manga’s content.

They had various rules.

For instance, there was a rumor that someone was found unconscious in an alley after commenting in a tavern that the Flame Alchemist would be useless in the rain. The fans had become so fierce.

Other readers sarcastically called this group the “Iron-Blooded Guild,” but they dared not say it too openly.

This was mainly because many nobles were part of this guild, and no one wanted to risk provoking them.

So, there were minor disturbances in the line waiting to purchase The Iron-Blooded Alchemist Volume 4.

Finally, the sales began, and some people immediately started reading their copies right there.

As they gathered in groups, sharing the hard-to-find books, they gasped, screamed, and eventually finished reading.

Just as they were about to close their books with satisfaction, they noticed a line at the end of the last page.

______________________________________

Due to the author’s health condition, the release of Volume 5 has been delayed.