Unduh Aplikasi
17.77% Reborn As Papa Silva / Chapter 16: A Dream

Bab 16: A Dream

"Who's this?" Draven Faust asked, narrowing his eyes as he sized up the lavender-haired girl standing before him. She looked more blue than purple under the reflection of the ocean-blue light spilling through the Deep Blue Room.

It wasn't just Draven who was caught off guard; his wife and the Agrippas shared his surprise. The unexpected addition was puzzling, especially since Sebastian had been clear about limiting new faces during their previous meeting. Yet here she was.

Dorothy grinned and stepped forward with a flourish, twirling at Acier's bedside before resting her hands on her hips. From deep within, she bellowed, "The name's Dorothy Unsworth! Pleased to meet you, mustachio!"

That answered nothing.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, Dorothy's eyes sparkled with mischief. With a curious glance at Sebastian, she turned back to face the two couples. "I'm their dau—"

They're what? Draven's confusion only grew as she trailed off, fidgeting, as if unsure. She shot a look at Acier, as though seeking permission or maybe even a blessing.

The two couples turned to Acier, who was propped up on her bed, watching the girl with a fond smile. Finally, she looked at Draven and answered for her. "She's our daughter."

Huh? Of all the answers Draven had anticipated, this wasn't even close. Adopt a child? Had the Silvas seriously taken in an outsider? House Faust might have distanced itself from the core of noble society to conduct their experiments without scrutiny, but that didn't mean they'd lost their wits—or forgotten the rules of noble decorum. As a lineage of shadow mages well-versed in espionage, the Fausts arguably had the keenest grasp on the affairs of not just the aristocracy but the kingdom at large.

The sheer absurdity of the statement hit Draven and Lilith at once. Clover, of all four kingdoms, might well be the most unyielding in its fixation on bloodlines and noble purity. For any house, let alone one of the kingdom's three pillars, to adopt an outsider would be scandalous beyond measure. A move that brazen would surely stir up a wave of whispers if not outright hostility.

And from the hushed murmuring he could sense behind him, Draven guessed the Agrippas had come to the same conclusion.

Not that it was his problem. Draven Faust cared little for titles or aristocratic theatrics; worth, in his eyes, was measured in usefulness, not noble heritage. And no matter how virtuous the Silvas might pretend to be, he seriously doubted they'd go so far as to adopt some random, useless brat. If they'd gone out of their way to bring this girl under their wing, she had to be someone exceptional.

His eyes narrowed on Dorothy's witch hat as he pieced together the clues. If this girl had managed to slip free of the Witch Queen's surveillance and traverse a Grand Magic Zone at her age, she had to possess talents of real value.

But then again, even if she didn't, it made little difference to Draven. The alliance between the Fausts and the Silvas was strictly transactional, built on mutual need. The Silvas needed the Fausts' expertise; the Fausts needed the Silvas' wealth. As long as each party upheld their side of the bargain, they'd remain in alliance without a hitch.

Draven had no intention of jeopardizing that arrangement with petty interference. It wasn't his place to question the family affairs of another house, much less that of a royal one. He wasn't about to sour their relations by dishing out unsolicited "advice" over some kid.

So, instead, he nodded, ready to offer a token of half-hearted congratulations on the "addition" to the Silva family—when someone else spoke up first.

"Daughter-in-law."

All heads snapped to the other side of the room, where Nozel Silva stood, his usual stoic demeanor softened only by the protective way he held his sister in his arms. His voice carried a subtle, unmistakable edge, stressing the difference in title.

Draven blinked, momentarily stunned by the revelation, before Nozel added with deliberate emphasis.

"She is my fiancée."

The way he stressed that last word, his gaze sweeping the room and daring anyone to challenge him, left everyone speechless. His eyes finally settled on Dorothy, giving her a brief, almost imperceptible nod.

Draven studied the witch with renewed interest. Well, it seems I'm looking at the future Matriarch of House Silva, he mused. I'd best remember to show her a bit more courtesy. With Nozel the unanimous candidate to take over as head of the Silvas in a few years, any disrespect toward his intended could sour their arrangement. Respecting his fiancée was only good sense.

Yet, as he looked around, it dawned on him that his years buried in arcane studies and dusty books had dulled his understanding of social nuance. The temperature in the room was anything but harmonious.

Acier's eyes widened at her son's declaration. His words carried a hint of possessiveness she'd seen in too many toxic couples. She didn't know whether to chide him for his attitude, recognizing how easily it could lead to treating Dorothy like an object or to squeal in excitement. After all, her once-seemingly asexual son had finally shown an interest in a woman. Could this mean that grandchildren were possible after all?

She turned her head, ready to flash a supportive thumbs-up to Dorothy and Sebastian, thinking her son's engagement was more promising than she'd feared. Keyword, about to. The excitement drained from her as she caught sight of Dorothy's expression—a mix of cringe and barely disguised disgust as she frowned at Nozel.

Acier prayed Nozel would pick up on his misstep, knowing full well that if he didn't, she'd soon have to schedule a rather uncomfortable heart-to-heart with him about relationships. It looked like her other son, Solid, would need a change in tutors as well; if this was how they taught courtship, her boys were doomed to failure in love.

Beside her, her husband sighed and rubbed his temples, his face etched with exasperation and undisguised disappointment. This did not bode well.

It was then Acier Silva realized something vital: this engagement's success wasn't about Nozel's resolve; it was all about Dorothy's willingness. And right now, her boy had likely dug himself a pit. Where before the two might have stood on even ground, Nozel had now sunk himself somewhere far below it.

Unable to bear the awkward tension any longer, Sebastian stepped in.

"Dorothy has a unique magic," he began, "one that allows her to create a separate space where we can treat both my wife's and son's curses without alerting that devil."

A brief silence followed as the Agrippas and Fausts exchanged glances, visibly impressed. Such a feat was remarkable, if not unheard of. 

"As expected of a witch," Lilith remarked, a faint trace of admiration in her voice. Witches were known for wielding esoteric magics that teetered on the edge of the supernatural, much closer to devilry than any other magic in the land. While the Clover Kingdom had seen unusual magic traits crop up over the years, mutated by constant exposure to dense mana, and giving up the protection of natural mana, the consistency and range of the witches' abilities were still unparalleled. Nearly all of them possessed powers defying logic—curses, familiars, even dimensional magic.

The group gave knowing nods, recognizing that while Dorothy's power was exceptional, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility for a witch.

All except one.

"You're a witch?" All eyes turned to Nozel, who was examining Dorothy with a new, fervent curiosity.

An awkward silence filled the room as Dorothy regarded him, slightly taken aback. "You… didn't know?" she asked, baffled.

Nozel shook his head, genuinely perplexed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Dorothy blinked in disbelief. Why would I tell you? Are we even that close? But Nozel's almost-wounded expression gave her pause, so she held back her thoughts. Instead, she pointed to her head.

"You didn't notice the hat? Or, I don't know, maybe the nature of my magic?"

Nozel looked genuinely mystified. "What's that supposed to mean? Plenty of peasants and commoners dress up and wear things like that."

Dorothy nearly snorted. When she'd first entered the Kingdom, she'd run into countless young women in the Forsaken Realm sporting similar headwear. Witches or not, it was easy to see why Nozel might not pick up on the difference.

With a resigned sigh, she tried again. "But what about my magic? That's hardly something a commoner could wield. Shouldn't that have tipped you off?"

Now Nozel was the one blinking, visibly struggling to come up with a reply. Even he seemed to recognize it was unwise to admit he'd assumed she was just another noble's illegitimate child, kept hidden somewhere. Especially not to the woman he was trying to court.

Sebastian noticed the gears turning in Nozel's head, and before he could stumble into an even bigger misstep, he placed a steadying hand on Dorothy's shoulder, drawing her attention.

As Dorothy looked up at him questioningly, Sebastian cleared his throat and provided a diplomatic explanation that, thankfully, wasn't entirely untrue. "Nozel's led a very sheltered life. He hasn't fully explored the kingdom yet and barely understands its diversity. It's only natural he might not recognize certain… clues."

"Exactly!" Acier chimed in, shaking her head with conviction as Dorothy looked back at her. Eager to save her son from further embarrassment, she added, "Nozel's never met a witch before. How could he have known, Dorothy?"

I guess that makes sense. Dorothy gave a thoughtful nod, seemingly convinced.

Meanwhile, Nozel let out an internal sigh of relief. Though it stung his pride a bit to have Sebastian Silva of all people come to his rescue, he decided he'd let it go. Just this once.

Maybe I should brush up on my courtship lessons, Nozel told himself, convincing himself that a bit of "rust" was to blame. A refresher, he thought, might be just what he needed to regain his footing.

"Alright, moving on?" Sebastian clapped his hands, his firm tone cutting through the lingering silence as he called everyone's attention. His gaze settled on Draven. "I take it you've completed Nozel's treatment?"

Draven exchanged a quick nod with Nathan Agrippa before reaching into his satchel and pulling out a well-worn parchment, covered in hurriedly scribbled notes and lined with intricate, otherworldly runes surrounding a central magic circle. Holding it up for everyone to see, he began, his voice steady and unemotional.

"The array is fully designed," he said, "and I've tested it on several magic beasts. I replicated 'her' curse, the same I analyzed on Nozel's throat, on those beasts and then layered this array over it. When I attempted to curse those beasts further, using 'her' curse as an entry point, it failed. The array successfully blocked all access while creating feedback to make it appear as though the curse had taken hold."

He paused to let the details sink in before adding, "Unless 'she' personally checks on Nozel, she'll have no idea her curse failed."

A palpable relief settled over Acier and Nozel, who both exhaled in unison, while Sebastian merely nodded with calm indifference. If a family of devil researchers and hex specialists couldn't handle something as crude as Nozel's curse, they'd better pack their things and start a farm in the Forsaken Realm, Sebastian thought wryly. Nozel's case, after all, was never the real issue. The real concern lay with Acier's curse.

"And what of Acier's?" Sebastian raised a brow, his voice shifting to a tone of genuine curiosity.

The Fausts and Agrippas exchanged glances again, but this time, there was visible hesitation, an uncharacteristic reticence to respond. After a beat, Nathan Agrippa, usually content to remain in the background, took a step forward.

"The curse 'that' devil used on Lady Acier," he began, choosing his words with unsteady precision, "is more… intricate than we initially assessed."

Unused to speaking with such force, Nathan found himself consciously summoning the volume to make himself clear. 

"Explain," Sebastian commanded, his voice cool, though the intensity in his gaze betrayed his concern.

Lilith stepped forward, her gaze intense as she added her own insight. "I'd originally assumed the curse was a simple physical plague attacking Lady Acier's bloodstream. However, once we brought back the blood samples, we had Azazel examine them thoroughly, only to uncover the true, far more insidious nature of the curse."

"And that would be?" Nozel cut in, his impatience simmering beneath a calm tone.

Draven answered on behalf of his wife, his tone grave. "We discovered the curse has both a material and spiritual component. Not only is it eating away at your mother's body, but it's marking her very soul."

Acier remained composed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why go through the trouble of marking my soul? What would 'she' gain from that?"

Before anyone could speculate, Nathan interjected, "My wife and I dug through the Agrippa family archives on 'she-who-should-not-be-named' and found a possible reason."

Jonna, who had remained silent, finally spoke, her voice steady yet tinged with reluctance. "There's an ancient curse-warding ritual called Malevolent Femcantation. By cursing three powerful souls of the same sex to death, 'she' could forge a gateway to the otherworld, enabling her to fully manifest here."

Jonna's gaze lowered as she glanced at Acier, clearly reluctant to speak the next words. "Lady Acier would be an ideal first target."

The implications settled heavily in the room. Acier Silva was to be the first sacrifice.

How did I forget such a significant plot point?!

Sebastian clenched his fist, mentally berating himself. Caught up in strategizing for the curse's removal, he'd lost sight of Vanica's deeper purpose. Megicula wasn't as reckless as her host. Every action of hers had a purpose; she wouldn't have risked losing her host if there wasn't a greater benefit. It was likely Megicula herself had guided Vanica to Acier, knowing a cursed Acier would be the first step in realizing her grander scheme.

Acier's knuckles whitened as she gripped her bed sheets, her frustration barely masked. Nozel placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, pulling her and his sister closer before turning to Draven with steely resolve. "How serious is this for us?" His gaze shifted to Lilith, recalling her earlier words. "You said it was complex but not impossible to treat."

Lilith nodded, her expression calm but unyielding. "Magic and the soul are intertwined since mana itself is a spiritual force. Nearly all curses connect to a target's soul, although typically only in a minor way."

"Then what's the problem?" Nozel questioned, his brow furrowing.

Draven spoke again. "If most curses are 90% physical and 10% spiritual, your mother's curse is precisely the opposite — 90% spiritual and only 10% physical."

"We have no issue treating her blood," he continued. "Lilith's Blood Magic and Jonna's Poison Magic can channel cursed blood into Lady Acier's bloodstream and heart, effectively neutralizing the curse by canceling it out and allowing her body to stabilize."

Curing the body with a kind of alchemical "fire with fire."

"Then what's the obstacle?" Sebastian demanded.

Nathan took up the explanation. "Her soul, Lord Silva. Lady Acier's soul has been heavily marked and tainted by 'her.' To completely cure her and prevent 'her' from using that soul mark as a gateway, we'll have to directly manipulate Lady Acier's soul."

Lilith's face showed frustration for the first time. "And that's where we're at a deadlock. Souls are incredibly fragile. Any wrong move, any slight error, and we risk permanently damaging Lady Acier's spirit… leaving her a hollow shell."

Draven rubbed his temples, clearly vexed. "This isn't a typical curse where we can hypothesize freely. We'd need extensive experimentation — ideally on female subjects — to even approach this safely."

He went on, "Unless we want the kingdom's full wrath upon us, experimenting on unwilling souls isn't an option. And willing volunteers are… unlikely. Even if we found them, the ritual is exceedingly difficult to replicate. We'd need curse-warding magic of the highest order to even mimic it, let alone safely test its effects."

His gaze landed on Acier. "In other words, Lady Acier is the only person cursed with this exact type of magic, and clearly, we can't experiment on her without serious risk."

A heavy silence filled the room as reality settled in. Acier couldn't help but bite her lip in frustration, every time things looked up, something else happened to ruin it. 

The silence didn't last long.

Sebastian's casual response left everyone flabbergasted. "Oh, is that all?" He blinked, seeming unfazed, while the room gaped in disbelief.

What do you mean, is that all?! Their expressions said it all, a mixture of shock and bafflement.

Sebastian's lips curled into a confident smile as he glanced down at Dorothy. "Well, Daughter, it looks like you're up."

Dorothy grinned back, her pink grimoire floating in front of her as pages flipped swiftly, stopping on a spell that didn't just bend reality but created an entirely new one.

"Dream Magic: Glamour World!" she chanted with a mischievous "teehee."

In an instant, a swirl of multi-hued mist enveloped everyone, pulling them into a strange, otherworldly domain.

What in the world? Draven Faust blinked in disbelief as he steadied himself, hovering in midair, suspended over an infinite pink void. He glanced around, his normally stoic expression betraying utter confusion as he took in the strange, floating objects dotting the space.

"Welcome to the World of Dreams!" Dorothy announced, her voice ringing out dramatically.

"Your magic is dream magic?" Nozel asked, stunned. He'd never heard of such a thing.

"Yup!" Dorothy smirked playfully, then suddenly appeared right beside him, leaning in to whisper, "What did you think I used?"

"Gahh!" Startled, Nozel stumbled back, pointing an accusatory finger. "You just teleported! You must be a spatial mage!"

"Nozel." His father's voice cut through, and Nozel turned to see Sebastian hovering in the pink dreamscape, with his mother floating nearby on her bed.

"Magic is a tool to make miracles real," Sebastian said slowly. "But you're far too rigid in your thinking, which will limit your growth as a mage."

Nozel huffed, unwilling to concede any fault without evidence. "What do you mean?"

Sebastian scratched his chin thoughtfully, then asked, "What do you think Ice Magic does?"

Fighting back frustration at all the cryptic lessons, Nozel replied, "It freezes things, obviously."

"Like what?" Sebastian continued patiently.

"Anything!" Nozel's voice grew impatient. "People, trees, walls, streets—whatever you can think of!"

Sebastian nodded approvingly. "So lava, fire, volcanoes, magma, space, time—"

"What?!" Nozel interrupted in disbelief, waving his father off. "No. No. No. Don't be ridiculous."

"Why is that ridiculous?" Sebastian cocked a brow.

"How?" Nozel scoffed. "Ice melts with heat. How could it freeze magma, let alone space or time? That's impossible!"

"Yet Julius can do so," Sebastian countered calmly, "and it's said that the supreme devil Beelzebub can lock down space whenever he wishes."

The Fausts nodded in agreement as they floated closer.

"That's different—Captain Novachrono has time magic! And Beelzebub has space magic!" Nozel insisted, as though explaining the basics to a novice. "That has nothing to do with ice."

"That's where you're wrong, Nozel." Sebastian shook his head. "Magic is about manifesting the impossible. The only limit is your imagination. If you're bound by strict logic, you'll never progress as a wizard."

Nozel started to argue but paused when he saw his mother nodding in agreement beside his father.

Then Draven spoke up. "The 20th Wizard King had his title revoked due to cruelty and the civil war he waged on the kingdom, but his strength was real. He was said to have a type of ice magic so powerful that, when he unleashed his mana zone, he could even freeze an entire volcanic grand magic zone."

Nozel's hand clenched as he recalled the name—Edward Avalanche. In his history lessons, he'd learned of this Wizard King's dark legacy, but not of such extraordinary power. Nozel's gaze hardened. Had his teacher simply not known, or deliberately left it out to prevent him from admiring such a fallen hero?

"Very well, Father." Nozel gave a reluctant nod of understanding. "I take it this little lesson has something to do with Dorothy?"

Sebastian smiled, nodding. "Making the unthinkable real fits no one better than her." He gestured warmly to Dorothy. "In the Glamour World, the realm of her dreams, anything she imagines can come to life."

Dorothy smiled, and with a snap of her fingers, the scene erupted. Tornadoes spiraled, waves crashed, lightning struck the waves and then grounded into newly forming earth. The pink dreamscape roared with heat and flames before a vibrant forest sprang to life, blanketing it all in lush greenery.

Nozel gawked, his jaw dropping. He could tell that nothing here was an illusion; everything was real. It took a moment to collect himself, then he looked at Dorothy with newfound admiration, nodding in approval. As expected of my wife.

Even Lord Conrad, may not be able to use that many elements so casually.

In Nozel's arms, Noelle clapped delightedly, drawing a warm look from Dorothy. With another snap of her fingers, Noelle appeared in her arms (much to Nozel's irritation), and a soft, cuddly teddy bear materialized before the little one. Noelle squealed in joy, eagerly grabbing it.

"I take it this is how we'll conduct our experiments for that one's curse?" Draven remarked, more of a statement than a question.

"You can say Megicula; she can't hear you." Sebastian spoke her name without hesitation, causing everyone to tense. But when nothing happened—no curse, no ominous sign—they exhaled in relief.

"So her name is Megicula," Nozel murmured with narrowed eyes, his cold fury evident. He vowed to repay her for the pain she'd caused his mother, a thousand times over.

"So, how will this magic help us practice on Lady Acier?" Draven pressed.

"No need to rush," Sebastian replied calmly, gesturing toward Nozel. "Treat my son first."

Draven nodded as Dorothy snapped her fingers, bringing everyone closer to Acier's bed.

He glanced at Nozel, who, catching the cue, removed his shirt. But he hesitated awkwardly, finding nowhere to sit.

Dorothy, noticing, snapped again—a stool appeared in front of Nozel.

Nozel acknowledged her with a slight nod, which she returned with an indifferent one. Outwardly, at least; inside, Dorothy was a bit flustered, unable to ignore Nozel's unexpectedly muscular build. I thought nobles didn't train. She was caught off guard, realizing her fiancé wasn't the skinny figure she'd imagined.

Quickly, Dorothy shook off her surprise, fearing any distraction might accidentally conjure a dozen shirtless Nozels.

Draven was about to summon Azazel to reveal Nozel's curse, intending to layer his array carefully. But as the master of this world, Dorothy sensed his thoughts.

Another snap and the markings of Nozel's curse appeared.

Draven's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at Dorothy. Once was a coincidence, twice suspicious, but three times—he recognized that Dorothy could read his thoughts and resolved to guard anything especially sensitive.

He didn't even bother pulling out his parchment and pen; instead, he merely thought about them. And Dorothy didn't let him down, as she snapped once more. In an instant, they floated from his bag—pen in hand and his design hovering beside Nozel.

Always pragmatic, Draven studied the array one last time before beginning. Just as he started, he turned to Dorothy curiously. "Can't you just imagine the array onto Nozel's curse?"

Dorothy shook her head. "My imagination works on reason and knowledge. I don't know enough about curses and arrays to recreate it perfectly. I could imagine an uncursed Nozel, but this is a dream, a corporeal space. Nothing created here solely from my thoughts can exist outside of it."

She gestured to the teddy bear in Noelle's arms. "Just like the bear, or an array; it only physically exists here in this dream. I can't bring it out."

Sebastian nodded, adding, "That's also why she can't simply imagine a healed Acier or a miracle cure. To fully reverse a curse, she needs deep knowledge of hexes and Megicula's work. Then, we'd need to apply the treatment in reality, without relying on the dream."

"Otherwise, why would I need the lot of you?" Sebastian remarked dryly.

Draven nodded thoughtfully and posed another question: "So does anything we do here really make a difference?"

Dorothy affirmed, "Of course! I brought your physical bodies into this space. If you die here, you die for real. And if you get healed here, that healing is real too—as long as it isn't just some figment of my imagination."

Draven nodded again, but his curiosity wasn't satisfied yet. "It's clear you can read our memories in this place. You're practically the god of this space. So why not read my memories, or the Agrippas', about devils and curses to cure your fiancé and mother-in-law?"

Dorothy felt an urge to correct him about the "fiancé" part. So what if Nozel was a pretty boy? His personality and hairstyle were still terrible. She would never marry someone like him.

Instead, she sighed and answered patiently. "First of all, I can only read the memories you're thinking about. You'd need to recall every detail about curses and devils for me to access that knowledge, which would take years. Second, reading something doesn't mean understanding it. I'm still a novice with curses and devils; I wouldn't grasp even a fraction of that knowledge."

"If only my mother were here…" Dorothy lamented.

"The witch queen?" Acier asked, studying her daughter-in-law with interest.

Dorothy nodded. "Mother is a master of blood magic and curses. She's dealt with plenty of souls in her lifetime, not to mention being a seer. She'd definitely know how to heal you, the steps to take, and the best future to pursue to avoid killing you accidentally."

"So… why not just imagine your mother?" Acier inquired, curious. If Dorothy struggled to visualize what she didn't understand, why couldn't she conjure someone who could help?

Dorothy seemed to anticipate her mother-in-law's question, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Setting aside that my mother is practically a stranger to me—we've barely spoken for more than ten minutes in my life—I don't think I could ever imagine her helping me." Or anyone else for that matter; that woman only looks after herself.

Silence enveloped the space once more. Acier gazed at Dorothy gently, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Sebastian placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"That's alright, Dorothy. We're your family now," he said softly, warming her heart.

Nozel observed the scene, his expression indifferent, leaving no one certain of his thoughts.

Without a word, Draven began meticulously inscribing the runic arrays, his pen gliding with steady precision. One by one, cryptic sigils materialized in the air, revolving and connecting to form a six-pointed star magic circle, which expanded and floated seamlessly over Nozel's curse. The array merged with the curse's own markings, causing it to gray out as though it had lost its potency. The curse quickly shrank, retreating into Nozel's throat before vanishing altogether.

"Done?" Nozel asked, rubbing his throat, surprised at the absence of the usual pain and restriction.

"Done," Draven confirmed with a nod, before adding a warning. "Now, if you mention the curse or Megicula, it won't harm you, but that doesn't mean you should."

"Why?" Nozel questioned as he began putting his shirt back on.

"This array only neutralizes the curse's effects on you. Speaking Megicula's name will still activate it. One mention isn't an issue, but repeat it enough times, and Megicula will realize you're still alive when you should have died. She would likely send her devil host to investigate," Draven explained.

"Remember, Nozel," he continued, "the curse may no longer harm you directly, but it can still be used to track your location and activity. If you attract her attention, you'll fall under her watchful eye. And don't forget your father's words about Vanica Zogratis having inside help to sneak into the Clover Kingdom. Whoever that informant is could easily alert Vanica to your status."

Nozel nodded. They couldn't fully lift the curse until they reached a level where Vanica and Megicula no longer posed a threat. He realized he had been too complacent lately.

I need to start my training again, Nozel resolved, clenching his fists. If I keep slacking, Fuegoleon will leave me behind once more—let alone catch up to the real enemies.

Sebastian gave a nod, "Alright, Acier's turn." Turning to Dorothy, he signaled, "If you would?"

With a smile, Dorothy conjured a monocle over her right eye, peering closely at Acier. Cryptic runes and data flashed in the air like lines of computer code as she studied every detail intently. After a minute, the monocle vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Alright!" Dorothy gestured to the Agrippa couple, "I need you both to recall everything you know about Malevolent Femcantation." She then pointed to the Fausts. "And I need you two to focus solely on her physical curse."

Finally, she turned to Acier with a warm smile. "Mother?" This is my mom now.

Acier returned the smile. "Yes, Dorothy?"

"I need you to think deeply about your condition—the pain, the discomfort, every bit of what this curse puts you through. Try to sense it within yourself, and focus on any mark or trace it's left on your soul, alright?"

Without question, Acier nodded.

Dorothy turned to Nozel, "And you, think about Mother, every detail you can remember. Her likes, dislikes, mannerisms, expressions—anything and everything."

Nozel, slightly puzzled, asked, "What exactly are you doing?"

Sebastian answered for Dorothy, "Since we can't test directly on your mother, Dorothy is recreating an exact clone, as close to perfect as possible, using your memories and perceptions of her. Every detail adds to its accuracy and individuality. If we can save that clone, we can save your mother."

Such convenient magic, Nozel thought to himself, closing his eyes to concentrate. Acier, the Fausts, and the Agrippas followed suit, all focused on their thoughts and memories.

Sebastian, holding Noelle now, glanced at Dorothy, who had also closed her eyes, brows furrowed in deep concentration. He noticed she hadn't asked him for his thoughts, and the realization dawned on him.

She deliberately left me out. He'd told her about his abilities as a soothsayer and had warned her that some things he did could never be explained. Did she leave me out intentionally, respecting that? Perhaps she's mindful that I might not want my memories read, even if I'd never say so.

A warm smile crossed Sebastian's face. What a filial daughter. Moments like these reminded him of how grateful he was that he'd extended the offer to her—and even more grateful she'd accepted.

After a moment, another wooden bed materialized beside Acier's, carrying what appeared to be an exact replica of Acier Silva. The resemblance was so striking that everyone stared in awe, even Noelle, nestled in Sebastian's arms, blinked in confusion as she glanced between the two Acier figures.

Draven narrowed his eyes and activated the mana in his bracelet, summoning a pitch-black shadow that morphed into a small imp-like devil. "Azazel," Draven called, "how accurate is this clone?"

Azazel's eyes glowed as he scrutinized the clone before replying, "Master Draven, the physical likeness is 100% accurate. Personality and mannerisms are at 74%, mana is 96%, the curse is replicated at 76%, and Acier Silva's soul… 57%."

"57…" Dorothy bit her lip, clearly frustrated with the result.

Sebastian placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's already incredible for a first attempt. As you conduct more trials, your familiarity with Acier will improve, and once you can produce a clone with full accuracy…" He looked pointedly at the Fausts and Agrippas. "…and once we're confident in treating that clone…"

Finally, he turned his gaze to the real Acier. "…we'll be prepared to treat you."

The room was filled with an understanding silence as each person nodded, processing the monumental steps they were taking toward a cure.

Lilith exchanged a look with Jonna. "Let's start by treating her physical body."

Jonna nodded, and with a snap, the two appeared at the clone Acier's bedside. As they prepared to cast their spells, Lilith's brow furrowed in confusion as she examined the clone more closely.

The clone watched them blankly, unreactive as they took her wrists and arms to inspect her condition.

Is she this unresponsive because her soul is incomplete? Lilith wondered.

Dorothy, reading her thoughts, shook her head. "No, that's not it. Her soul is 57% similar to Mother's, but it's still complete. Simply 57% of her soul is identical to Mother's."

Lilith raised an eyebrow, glancing at the expressionless clone. "Then why does she look so… lifeless?"

Feeling the others' questioning gazes, Dorothy spoke quietly. "That's my doing."

Acier looked at Dorothy, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "Why?" she asked gently.

Dorothy hesitated. "Because, in the end, this clone is just the first of many test subjects we'll create. She's bound to die… so I thought it kinder to take away her free will. If she doesn't react, doesn't speak, doesn't act… she's not human. Then, no one has to feel guilt, or feel anything… when she inevitably falls apart."

Silence filled the space, a weighted pause in which everyone exchanged conflicted glances. The Agrippas and Fausts shared especially troubled looks.

When she says no one… she means us, they thought, realizing her intention.

Sebastian studied Dorothy carefully, catching the deeper truth. Yes, she means them, but mostly, she means herself. He could tell Dorothy was protecting her own heart. She would be creating more clones like this one, each made to look exactly like her new mother. Depriving them of free will was her way of drawing a clear line between the clones and the real Acier.

Sebastian sighed and gently patted her on the back. "Wise choice." He nodded reassuringly, receiving a weak nod from her in return.

Lilith nodded to Jonna, then addressed the group. "We're about to begin the physical treatment."

Sebastian, a thought crossing his mind, tapped Dorothy on the shoulder. She turned, curious, as he pointed from his head to Noelle in his arms. Dorothy caught on, and with a snap, earmuffs and a blindfold appeared on Noelle, blocking her senses.

Noelle squirmed, giggling at what she probably thought was a new game of peekaboo.

Sebastian looked down at his daughter, his eyes narrowing. Noelle may not understand, but I won't risk traumatizing her by having her witness an Acier lookalike suffer. He gently pinched her cheeks, causing her to giggle. To Noelle, it was just playtime, but Sebastian had another purpose. He needed her to stay awake; in the Glamour World, falling asleep meant risking more than just a nap.

Lilith and Jonna each took hold of one of the clone's wrists, chanting their spell together: "Combination Magic: Poison Hexed Blood!"

Crimson blood flowed from Lilith into the clone's right wrist, while a maroon, poisonous gas entered the left wrist from Jonna. As the poison spread through the clone's bloodstream, it immediately clashed with Megicula's curse, each force canceling the other out and disintegrating. Lilith's blood began replacing what was lost, keeping the clone from succumbing to blood loss.

Internally, this battle raged within the clone's bloodstream, filling its arteries, veins, and capillaries until it reached the heart.

Outside, however, the scene was gruesome. The clone's dull gaze sharpened, pupils dilating as it writhed in silent agony, thrashing against Lilith's and Jonna's grip. Veins bulged and dark blood oozed from its pores. Despite its supposed lack of will, tears welled up, and its lips parted in a voiceless plea.

But Dorothy had not given it a voice—she had stripped it of that ability. That's how it was meant to be. Just as the poison reached the clone's heart, it uttered, in Acier's familiar voice, a broken plea: "P-please… m-mercy… please."

Lilith Faust was indifferent, she's seen countless die from the Devil Binding Ritual, and she's even helped slay those monsters who lost control. Jonna Agrippa was messy on the inside but gritted her teeth and continued the spell. Knowing that this was just the first test, and she'll have to get used to it.

Nathan Agrippa felt sorrow for his wife, wishing he was the one with poison magic, so he could be the one to do this. 

Dorothy felt sick to her stomach, watching this, as her legs began to tremble. You're not real. You're fake! You're not supposed to cry! To speak!

She begged inwardly for the clone to stop resisting, and go back to its lifeless visage, but it wouldn't because Dorothy could no longer imagine it as anything but human, as a person. 

Sebastian put a hand on her shoulder, to still her trembling. 

Azazel's eyes glowed once more as he scrutinized the clone before speaking to Draven, "Master Draven, the physical likeness remains at 100% accurate. Personality and mannerisms are now at 79%, mana is 98%, the curse is replicated at 83%, and Acier Silva's soul… 65%."

Draven Faust raised his eyebrow in surprise before understanding.

Dorothy could no longer draw a clear line between the clone and Acier, so naturally her imagination stopped limiting the restraint on its free will, and the clone became more like Acier. 

It's just a clone. Nozel told himself, your real mother is right here, beside you. He clenched Acier's bedside and sat down beside her.

But he couldn't remain entirely unphased. Because even if the treatment will be more perfected in the future, he couldn't stomach the thought of his mother having to go through even a minuscule amount of that pain.

There has to be a better way! A cleaner way! Nozel clenched his fist. 

Meanwhile, Acier and Sebastian observed the scene with impassive expressions, their thoughts unreadable.

Finally, as the cursed blood was replaced, Lilith and Jonna released the clone. It slumped onto the bed, its face pale and drenched in bloody sweat. Slowly, its expression dulled, eyes blank and lifeless once more, like a doll.

The clone panted tiredly, its face so pale, tainted in bloody sweat, as it slumped onto the bed. Its complex expression gradually eased, as it returned to its dull lifeless look, like a doll.

"Azazel," Draven called out softly.

The black impish, goat-horned devil, spoke in its same squeaky voice. "The clone's similarity remains the same. The dull state is an act… a coping mechanism, to deal with the pain." 

Dorothy Unsworth wanted to throw up. 

Sighing, Sebastian placed a comforting hand on her back, channeling cool water mana to ease her nerves. Glamour World mirrored Dorothy's emotions, and he had no interest in it becoming Vomit World. 

With the physical treatment complete, Dorothy snapped her fingers, swapping the Agrippa and Faust wives with their husbands. Draven and Nathan took a moment, then Draven addressed Dorothy from across the room, "Can you reveal her soul?"

Dorothy gave another dull snap, and the clone transformed, becoming translucent, a spiritual outline of its soul. The sight might've been striking—an ethereal silver-white figure—if it weren't marred by a sickly green and pitch-black tumor where its heart would be. Acier's hand instinctively moved to her chest, feeling the weight of the realization. So I have something like that inside me?

Sebastian broke the silence, his voice steady, "So how do you plan to handle that?"

Draven and Nathan exchanged a glance, and Draven replied, "We've come up with three possible options."

"And they are?" Sebastian's tone stayed calm.

Draven started, "First, we could brute force it and simply erase Megicula's curse mark on Lady Acier's soul."

Nathan elaborated, "This method has a 50-50 chance of either freeing her from the devil's hold or killing her outright if her soul can't endure the strain of the procedure."

Draven added, "Or she may survive but end up… hollow, without thoughts or agency, like an empty shell." A retard.

Not an option. "What about option two?" Sebastian continued, unperturbed.

Nathan replied, "We could replicate Nozel's treatment and inscribe an array on Lady Acier's soul that would counteract the effects of Malevolent Femcantation, sending feedback to trick Megicula into believing her curse is working as intended."

Sebastian sensed the hesitation. "But?"

Draven continued, "Though it's the safest approach initially, it's risky long-term. Malevolent Femcantation is a high-level curse, so designing an effective array will take days. Once applied, it'll constantly battle Megicula's decay, wearing down over time. We'd need regular checkups to renew the array, and one slip or lapse in focus could prove fatal."

Sebastian nodded, still pinching Noelle's cheeks as she giggled. "And option three?"

Draven looked at Nathan before speaking, "Using Agrippa's theoretical method of turning curses into power, we could reverse Malevolent Femcantation's effects. Rather than let it erode Lady Acier's body and soul, we'd deceive Megicula, turning the curse into a source of strength, enhancing Lady Acier like Megicula empowers herself."

Nathan looked at Lilith for a moment and chimed in, "With Cimeies' power, it might be feasible."

Sebastian, impressed, considered. "But I take it this one is the hardest to pull off?"

Both men nodded. Nathan added cautiously, "I've seen limited success with this approach. Attempting it on such a high-level curse doesn't fill me with confidence."

Nor me, Sebastian thought, but he clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, let's stop here for today."

Draven, surprised, frowned. "But we still have an hour left in the session."

Sebastian glanced at the dull-eyed clone on the bed and then at the visibly shaken Dorothy, sighing. "I think she's had enough for now. Let's give her time to recover." Who he was referring to was left unspoken.

Dorothy glanced at him, mouthing a silent "thank you."

Sebastian nodded, stifling a yawn as he added, "Besides, haven't you all noticed feeling sleepy? If you fall asleep in the Glamour World, you die." He said it with unnerving calm.

The group froze, and Acier and Nozel turned sharply toward Noelle, who was still giggling in Sebastian's arms. Seeing she was unharmed, they sighed in relief—though they both shot Sebastian stern looks.

Dorothy looked sheepish, scratching her neck. "I did try to shield you from that part of the spell, but I guess I haven't quite mastered it yet." Without further ado, she snapped her fingers, and they were expelled from Glamour World, reappearing in the quiet stillness of the Deep Blue Room.

Everyone took a moment to collect themselves, and then Draven turned to Sebastian, his eyes narrowed. "Should we head home for now, or is the evening appointment still on?"

Sebastian glanced at Dorothy, who gave him a determined nod. He nodded back at Draven, "Yes, perhaps you and the Agrippas should discuss your findings now that you've seen Malevolent Femcantation up close, the way it marks a soul."

The Agrippas and Fausts shared a quick nod, and a shadow portal started forming on the wall.

Sebastian's gaze shifted thoughtfully to Nathan. If he's uneasy about the technique, perhaps I should give him a chance to see his work in action. His mind drifted to two young mages—a slow-spoken boy and a prickly girl—who could benefit from Nathan's help.

Sebastian was about to suggest reconvening at three when a sharp knock pounded on the door. Everyone froze, and the Fausts and Agrippas looked ready to vanish when a familiar voice sounded.

"My lord, it's me."

They all relaxed, and Sebastian lowered the barrier blocking the door. "Come in, Alfred."

With a gentle swing of the door, Alfred entered, bowing to everyone before briefly pausing as he looked at Dorothy. He made his way to Sebastian, and everyone watched as he leaned in to whisper something that caused Sebastian's brows to rise.

"Already?" Sebastian asked, just loud enough for the room to hear. "Isn't that a bit… quick?"

What's too quick? Nozel thought though he held his tongue, watching as Alfred shook his head wryly before continuing, "I didn't have to look for them, Master. They… came to me."

Who? The curiosity in the room was palpable.

Sebastian's expression changed to a grim smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Those guys have a really high opinion of me… or I guess low if they think I'm of the same mind as them." He chuckled while scratching his chin.

Alfred simply lowered his head, refraining from comment.

Turning back to the group, Sebastian addressed them all. "I'll need to miss the 3 pm appointment."

"Why?" Nozel demanded.

But Sebastian just shook his head and walked over to Acier's bedside, opening a cabinet drawer to pull out an elegant glass bottle.

Wine? Everyone watched, intrigued.

Sebastian looked at Acier, his tone soft, "Mind if I take this?"

Acier nodded, curious but silent.

Sebastian smiled his thanks, then turned to Jonna. "Mrs. Agrippa, may I ask you a favor?"

Omake:

Nozel gawked as he watched Dorothy casually wield countless elements like she had the world at her fingertips.

Seeing her power in person didn't make him feel any pride or glee, that such a person was to be his wife.

No, it just made him feel frustration, as he clenched his fist in frustration. Even my fiancée is stronger than me? That means... that means...

Nozel turned his head, towards his mother propped up on the floating bed, before focusing his gaze on his father hovering in the pink void, beside her.

That means I really am my father's son. Nozel thought grimly.


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
hmak27230 hmak27230

Sorry for not updating yesterday, life was too busy between volunteering, school, and work. Chapter 15 was the last prewritten chapter I had saved up, so this one had to be written from scratch so it took a while. This is another reason why from now on daily updates are looking more unlikely. I'll try to at least update every other day.

Now specifically for my fellow Webnovel-tards. Do you really think that I'm going to be stupid enough to write an entire chapter as a single paragraph?

No! Why the fuck would I do that? How could I ever possibly read and review that shit?! It's just Webnovel changing the format on its own! So if it happens again, here's what you do. Instead of whining like a bitch, take two seconds to open another browser, go to fanfiction or aO3 and read the chapter there. The story goes by the same name, and I'm pretty sure my author name is the same, okay?

Good, now that's all there is to talk about, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Bab 17: You're Evil (1)

In an undisclosed location that straddled the line between the noble realm and the commoner realm, a wooden cottage stood in a remote forest clearing.

From the outside, the cottage appeared abandoned, neglected for years, with cracked boards and moss creeping up its sides. Bushes and trees encroached upon the structure, giving it an air of desolation. The path leading to the cabin was utterly decimated—beaten and cracked, as if this place had weathered a great battle.

Keyword: looked. Once one stepped onto the porch, however, the scene would change dramatically. The dilapidated exterior transformed into a beautiful white villa, its expansive glass windows gleaming in the sunlight, showcasing a refined Victorian architecture. The rough pathway and wild greenery gave way to a meticulously landscaped garden, replete with vibrant flowers and manicured hedges, revealing this was a place heavily attended to.

A barrier with illusionary properties had been set up to mask the villa's true nature, discouraging unwanted visitors from approaching or even registering its existence on anyone's radar.

Inside the villa, the sound of gruff laughter echoed through the air, accompanied by the clinking of glasses. As one opened the door and navigated through the living room, marked by exquisite oak floorboards, they would soon arrive at the dining area.

This large room was spacious enough to accommodate the average family and then some, yet much of it lay unused. At its center stood a small circular table, beneath a glass chandelier that caught the light beautifully, casting shimmering reflections on the walls. Three middle-aged men occupied the table, deep in conversation.

The man sitting at the center, facing the living room exit, was distinguished by his short, golden-brown hair combed back, except for one lock that hung down over his forehead. A small black dot rested just below his lower lip, above his chin, and he wore an arrogant, smug smile tinged with indifference. Clad in an expensive-looking golden doublet adorned with green and purple stripes, and black hooked shoes, he held a smoke pipe in his right hand. This man was none other than Lux Kira, the younger brother of the current king of the Clover Kingdom, the patriarch of the Kira Family, and the father of Damnatio Kira. [1]

On his right sat a man with long blond hair tied back in a neat ponytail, his bangs offset to the left. He had fair skin and pencil-thin blond eyebrows that framed mostly slanted green eyes. Dressed in a white shawl and small stud earrings, this man was the current head of House Haphass—Veriol Haphass. [2]

To the left of Lux sat a tall, slender man with long, light purple hair cascading down his back. He adorned a silver beaded chain around his head, with a small blue pendant hanging at the center of his forehead. His light-colored robe, marked with dark crosses along the hem and high collar, paired with light-colored boots featuring crosses at the toes that extended up his shins, gave him a unique and striking appearance. He was Zyrex Lugner, the current head of House Lugner. [3]

Lux leaned back, taking a long, indulgent puff from his pipe before closing his eyes in satisfaction, exhaling a plume of smoke that curled lazily around him. Opening his eyes, he cast a pleased, smug look at his companions. "Well, gentlemen," he drawled, savoring each word, "we've done it. Those fools in The White Serpent have taken the bait. They've accepted that mission." [4]

"Pfff… hahaha, what idiots?!" Veriol couldn't resist slapping the table, letting out a derisive, mocking laugh filled with undisguised disdain.

Zyrex let out a small smile, gracing his impassive face. "We didn't even have to do much to draw them out. That stupid bitch, Lovilia, volunteered not just herself but her entire squad for the mission."

Veriol laughed even harder. "Does pregnancy turn women into such fools? This is what Conrad gets for marrying a peasant. Not even able to smell a trap shortly after declaring she's with child. Has that bitch not suspected anything, from such a mission falling into her lap?!"

Lux gave a low, derisive chuckle. "You know, peasants and commoners, trash like them, are always eager to rush around and prove themselves. They have weak bodies, weak mana, and even weaker minds."

Lux smiled once more, taking another puff from his pipe. It's a shame for that woman, though. Although her magic and lineage are nothing special, she has a nice body. I would've liked to experience it once.

Lux could understand Conrad's love for that woman. Her body made her lacking mana less of an eyesore. But alas, Lux Kira would have to go his entire life without bedding her, because he can't risk going personally to the trap and leaving behind some clues.

As much as he despised Conrad Leto, he recognized his abilities as a mage. A thief excels in tracking, and Conrad is the number one thief in history.

He literally steals magic.

"How much longer do we have to wait for the good news?" Zyrex glanced at Lux, who was the unanimous leader in the room.

"Four days." Lux puffed out a smoke before continuing. "The White Serpent has been alerted to the appearance of a dungeon in a forest at the border of the forsaken realm."

"Little do they know it's a secret location that my family had cleaned out decades ago. Nothing of worth will be found there."

"I hired a bunch of talented trap mages to reactivate and arm the dungeon with traps and arrays that will surely cut down their numbers!"

Veriol paused for a moment, his usual smugness replaced with hesitance as he remembered a not-so-proud memory. "Are you sure… it will kill them all? After all, that bitch's magic is quite troublesome."

Lux Kira gave Veriol Haphass a sidelong glance, restraining himself from rolling his eyes and cursing the man. The shame of the nobility. Instead, he just puffed another smoke and spoke again, "Should that outcome occur, I've already made preparations."

"And what are they?" Zyrex crossed his arms and frowned.

This time more enthusiastic to speak, Lux gave a low smile and whispered softly, yet in the quiet room, it was enough for everyone to hear. "Everyone knows Clover and Diamond have a bloody history of competing over dungeons. So in exchange for some riches and more test subjects, I hired one of their eight Shining Generals to finish off any survivors and escapees."

"Even if Conrad finds out, the only traces will lead back to Diamond. No one will suspect anything. And even if they do… well, who could be so selfless as to go through the trouble of convincing everyone to ignore the obvious evidence and point their eyes at the Kingdom's nobility?"

Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. The royal court is already in my back pocket, Lux thought smugly. Even if they did blame someone, it wouldn't be me. And I already have a perfect scapegoat in mind if that worst outcome comes to be.

No one has opposed Conrad's reforms with more visibility and fanfare than him. He'd probably be the prime suspect anyway; my planted evidence would simply be the icing on the cake.

After he's dealt with… not only will I be Lord Kira, but Lord Kira Silva. "Hehehe," Lux couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

His thoughts drifted to a beautiful silver-haired, purple-eyed woman. He tried to hide his lust and fury. How dare that half-breed mutt take such a treasure for himself? Such a gem belongs in the hands of true royalty, not some bastard boy toy outsider!

Lux took another puff of smoke to calm himself down.

Zyrex nodded in approval, while Veriol went back to his usual arrogance. "As expected of Lord Kira, you've thought about everything!" Veriol was just about to raise a glass in front of him as a toast, but Lux stopped him.

"No hurry, Veriol," Lux gave a slow smile. "We're still waiting on a guest."

"Guest?" Veriol Haphass and Zyrex Lugner exchanged a glance of bewilderment. How could they possibly entertain a guest? This villa and their existence here was supposed to be a complete secret.

Naturally, they couldn't meet face to face in the noble realm and royal capital, where eyes and ears were everywhere. They had to invest quite a bit of trouble to build this place and create cryptic signals and codes that appeared in the daily newspapers to arrange meetups.

So that means… if there's a new guest, it can only be… "a new collaborator?" Veriol asked, though it sounded more like a question.

Lux nodded with a smile and looked forward. "He's here… or they're here.

Zyrex and Veriol turned to follow his gaze, tensing up as they heard the front door open. They waited patiently, listening to a pair of footsteps growing louder before two figures came into view.

The front one was a tall, slender man wearing a fur coat, with distinctive silver-white hair tied into a rat tail, and a pair of brown laced slippers as his footwear. Behind him, following silently, was a balding butler with a gray handlebar mustache, dressed in an expensive yet servile one-piece black suit, carrying a silver suitcase.

Zyrex and Veriol exchanged a wry grin before standing up, followed by Lux, who stood up last.

Veriol smiled and spread his hands wide. "I admit I was shocked we would have any more additions to this group of ours, but if it's you, it makes all the sense."

Zyrex nodded in agreement.

Lux Kira then focused on the silver-haired figure, expertly hiding his disdain under a polite smile. "Greetings, Lord Silva," Lux forced himself to give a short, polite bow. At the end of the day, Sebastian Silva was royalty, even if he hated to admit it. Royalty bowed to no one except the King and fellow royalty. Naturally, as the head of a fellow royal house, Sebastian Silva was worthy of that respect.

Sebastian returned the bow with a short one of his own. "Always a pleasure, Lord Kira."

He then focused on Veriol and Zyrex, who also bowed to him but more deeply and submissively since they were minor nobles.

"Sir Haphass. Sir Lugner." Sebastian acknowledged their presence with a short nod.

The two were pleased to know that Sebastian Silva was aware of their identities. But of course he was; Sebastian Silva was a failure of a mage, always facing oppression due to being the head of a magic knight family without being one himself. The only thing he had going for him was his status as a politician and the power he carefully cultivated in the royal palace. Sebastian Silva was a workaholic—no time for family, but all the time in the world for his career. He dedicated 95% of his efforts to that.

Always looking for an advantage and ways to climb the ladder, he sought to make everyone fear, respect, and acknowledge him—especially that pig who sat on the throne, so he would take him seriously. The world of nobility was a world of connections; without them, you had no prospects or future. What connections could Sebastian, a member of a branch family that branched off from another branch family, possibly have? When he was appointed as Head of House Silva, many of the vassal houses under them showed signs of wavering loyalty. Who would be willing to serve a guy they just pinned as lucky, who somehow managed to seduce the young lady of House Silva?

So how did Sebastian Silva get them to stay, and how did he build his connections? He didn't. He forced them to stay and made connections. He spent all available time he had learning everything he could about nobility, studying every noble family and house as if he were preparing for an exam. He grasped their weaknesses, their backdoor deals, their bribes, their scandalous affairs, dark dealings, shames, and embarrassments, using them against others to compel their cooperation and loyalty.

If you didn't comply, well, he wouldn't hesitate to start a rumor. In aristocracy, nothing is more dangerous than rumors, as the thing valued most is reputation. With it, even penniless peasants and commoners could climb through the ranks. A ruined reputation meant game over. He learned about every player in the noble and aristocratic circles to find those who could be of use to him, increasing his power and sway in the courtroom. Before he was called the Wolf of the Courts, he was called the Vulture of the Courts for his unforgiving and merciless attitude—biting onto everything that could serve him and spitting out anything that no longer had anything to give him.

Naturally, he was aware of House Haphass and House Lugner, especially House Haphass, as he was already plotting their downfall the moment he read Veriol's offer for Noelle. Well, this just makes it easier for me. I don't have to go out of my way to look for you. Sebastian studied the punchable, slime-faced trash briefly before setting his eyes on Zyrex. Is this Zyrex's father? Well, that makes sense. Like father, like son, they say. That bastard's horrible personality had to come from somewhere.

As the two raised their heads and stood up straight, Sebastian had to resist the urge to spit in their faces. Just like Lux, he forced a smile on his face—though his was less fake and more indifferent than Lux's exaggerated one.

"Gentlemen," Sebastian gave them a nod. "I admit I was offended that it took you so long to consider; I'd want to be part of such a thing."

Lux Kira chuckled. "Apologies, Lord Silva. This was all on me. I just thought you had so much on your plate arranging for your wife's impending funeral. I thought it'd be insensitive of me to offer. But when I heard Alfred sniffing around, I realized I was too shortsighted—who else but Sebastian Silva would want to be part of Conrad Leto's downfall?"

Sebastian shrugged indifferently at the mention of Acier. "What worth could a corpse bring me, or House Silva? Sixteen years and only one capable child? I think her reputation was exaggerated. It has to be. How else could a supposed Wizard King candidate fall to a common illness of all things?"

"I have more important things to do than waste any more time on that woman."

Veriol and Zyrex nodded at that, though they were starting to suspect that much of Acier Silva's achievements were embellished and purposefully exaggerated through House Silva's channels. Death from birth? Seriously? How pathetic. Commoner and peasant scum pump out children like workshop lines, and the Dancing Princess of the Battlefield tapped out a measly four despite merely being in her early thirties. Weak was the only word that came to mind.

Lux Kira nodded as well, but his thoughts were more petty. Let's see how long you can keep that bravado up, you half-breed. After I take your house, I'll heal her and take your wife too. And show you despair by bedding her in your very own bed. Hehehe, I'll even make you watch. I'm sure Conrad will be happy to play along and let me before your execution since you are the one who will be held responsible for his wife's, unborn child's, and squad's deaths.

Lux hurriedly tried to change the topic to avoid revealing his thoughts. Waving it off, he continued, "Enough about some measly woman. Let's all have a seat; I saved one for you." He pointed across the table to the empty seat facing him.

Sebastian nodded indifferently as Alfred pulled the seat out for his master, then stood behind it while Sebastian sat down. Only after that did the other three take their seats.

After a brief moment of silence, Lux smiled gently and gestured his hand in Sebastian's direction. "Tell me, Lord Silva, I've always known of your disdain for Conrad, but how about you enlighten us on why you wanted to join this little faction of ours and show that fool some despair?"

Sebastian, sitting regally in his chair with his eyes closed, didn't answer right away. "You can call me Sebastian. We're all like-minded friends here, aren't we?"

Veriol and Zyrex nodded approvingly—Veriol more slimy, while Zyrex did so more stiffly. Lux paused, hiding his disdain as he thought, Well, you'll regret it. This may very well be the last time you receive a sign of respect from fellow nobility. Better for me anyway; I always hated treating a mutt like you as an equal. Heh.

With a smile so exaggerated that it might make one doubt its sincerity, Lux clapped his hands. "Of course, Sebastian. Then feel free to call me Lux; it's only right."

Lux never looked at Zyrex or Veriol, clearly reserving this liberty for Sebastian alone. Even if he had, the two of them wouldn't dare to call him that, even if they had a hundred lifetimes.

As close collaborators with Lux Kira, they knew full well of the man's true personality. Just like his elder brother, the only ones he took remotely seriously were fellow royalty. To him, everyone beneath him—nobility, commoners, and peasants—were trash.

The noble trash was just less of an eyesore, so he could tolerate them somewhat. But if they did something as audacious as call him by his first name… well, they should be prepared for a less-than-pleasant ending. So even if Lux gave them that blessing, they wouldn't dare take it.

Sebastian sat across from Lux and gave a nod. "So, Lux, you wanted to know what brings me here, right?"

Lux nodded back, his eyes closed and wearing his usual serene smile. Four days until my plans and dreams come to fruition, he thought. Might as well let this fool entertain me until then.

"I hate Conrad."

Lux's eyes snapped open, surprised by such a blunt and crass response from someone like Sebastian, who usually hid behind cryptic elegance and veiled insults. But Sebastian barely noticed, continuing on.

"That idiot Leto is trying to bridge the class gap—erase the walls between nobility, commoners, and peasants, all for some ridiculous dream where everyone laughs together? HOW DARE HE?! THAT AUDACIOUS, FAILED NOBLE DOG!"

Bam! A vein pulsed in Sebastian's forehead as he slammed the table, sending drinks sloshing and shaking the whole setup as he stood up and leaned over. The others around the table stared, stunned by the rare passion from their usually stoic companion.

Is this how he truly feels? The three thought in unison. Even Lux didn't think to complain about the spilled wine staining his custom table.

Behind Sebastian, Alfred, his butler, stood calm and unflinching, every bit the proper servant.

Sebastian, unbothered, gripped the table harder, cracking the wood beneath his fingers and drawing blood from his nails. "A nation where we all get along? Laugh together? Work together?! DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT!" He pounded the table again, his red face and fierce eyes daring anyone to interrupt him.

"All that bastard wants is to steal from us! To take our wealth and spread it to those low-level parasites, make us equals, so that his peasant wife and trash friends can forget they're beneath us!"

"Look at what he's done." Sebastian gestured broadly. "Under that traitorous, self-hating excuse of a noble, the Magic Knights—our prestigious Magic Knights—have been polluted by not just commoners, but two peasants and even some lowborn foreigner!"

"The Magic Knights," Sebastian spat, glaring at the three. "They are meant to carry out Lord Lemiel's will, to protect, govern, and defend the nation. Am I wrong?"

The three shook their heads, slowly.

"THEN WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND THOUGHT IT WAS APPROPRIATE FOR SOME LOWBORN SCUM TO JOIN THIS ORDER? PEASANTS? COMMONERS? A WIZARD KING? CAPTAINS?! THE VERY PILLARS OF OUR NATION?! IT'S ABSURD!"

Sebastian seethed, voice filled with fury. "Pile them all together—all those lowborn filth wouldn't have a fraction of our mana! And yet we allow that garbage to pollute our ranks? And they think they can walk into our courts, our offices?!"

"Those ungrateful swine!" Veriol snarled, blood boiling with rage, while Zyrex nodded vehemently alongside him.

"Exactly!" Sebastian pointed at Veriol. "For centuries, we've protected those useless, low-magic scum without asking anything in return. We even granted them the honor of paying a little tribute to us, so we could keep them safe! We stand between them and other nations, magic beasts, and all manner of threats, putting our lives on the line—and instead of gratitude, now they want to replace us?!"

"Eight generations of Wizard Kings ago, they even rebelled and tried to wipe us out!"

"And what did we do?" he demanded, looking around the table.

"Showed them mercy!" Zyrex shouted, his voice shaking with emotion.

"Exactly!" Sebastian bellowed. "We only executed the main perpetrator and rebels, despite them biting the hand that fed them, showing them a generosity that made them less than dogs. They played nice for a couple of generations, but now in Conrad's time, they're acting up again!"

"They say they want equality," Sebastian sneered, leaning in close, "but what do they really want?"

"Blood," Lux muttered hoarsely.

Sebastian nodded approvingly, resuming his rant with renewed energy. "Precisely. Eight generations ago, under the pretense of equality, they waged a civil war—a rebellion led by that traitorous Avalanche. Noble and royal blood flowed like rivers, and countless houses with promising young men and women were wiped out to satisfy that nobody's lust for power! So many valuable lives were lost just to put an end to that tyrant's madness."

"And what happened next?!" he demanded, his gaze sweeping across the three men, daring them to answer.

"The Diamond Kingdom struck our borders." Sebastian's voice softened, laced with bitterness. "Already weakened, we took yet another blow as more noble blood was shed to hold them off. Our losses then were immeasurable. Only now, eight generations later, have we truly recovered. And yet, here we are again, with Conrad Leto singing the same destructive tune."

"Well? Will we let them tear down everything we've rebuilt?" His voice echoed through the room, taut with tension.

"No!" The three yelled in unison, their faces flushed and eyes red with fury.

"Of course not! Rather than let history repeat itself, we'll make a preemptive strike. Not just Conrad, but his wife, his squad, every last sympathizer and supporter must DIE!" Sebastian slammed his fist down once more, this time shattering the table completely, glassware tumbling to the floor and smashing into shards.

Silence fell over the room as the three of them stared, momentarily stunned by the shattered wood and glass around them. They slumped back in their chairs, breaths heavy. Veriol gulped, his gaze shifting upward to Sebastian Silva, who stood tall and resolute, towering over them.

Veriol hesitated, then spoke up carefully, each word chosen to avoid Sebastian's ire. "Lord Silva… isn't that a bit extreme? Conrad is beloved, and supported by the majority. That's why it's just us here tonight. Even if we had the strength to oppose him… would there even be a Clover Kingdom left after all that death?"

Sebastian's gaze sharpened, and he gave Veriol a sneering look of contempt. "You think everyone supports that fool? Nobles cozy up to him only to gain power! But when they see his real agenda—destroying our authority, making it so no one holds power over anyone—they'll be the first to stab him in the back."

His voice dropped to a whisper filled with venom. "And if we want to act, it must be soon. Before that upstart Julius, Conrad's prized supporter, grows stronger. Do you want to face a man who can control time?"

The three men exchanged uneasy glances, considering his words. Finally, Zyrex spoke up. "Perhaps Novachrono could be… persuaded to our side. With the right price, surely—"

"You fool!" Sebastian cut him off, voice dripping with disdain. "Novachrono is being groomed as Conrad's successor! It was he who brought that foreigner here, he who took in that wretched Vangeance brat. He has stood by Conrad since they were both young, defending his every move. It was Julius who introduced him to Lovilia, and Julius who advocated for that redheaded peasant's acknowledgment. Novachrono doesn't just support Conrad's ideals; he's actively pushing for them himself!"

Zyrex and Veriol flinched at his outburst, glancing toward Lux for confirmation.

"He's right," Lux said quietly, his usual air of arrogance replaced by a somber steeliness. "For the safety of the Clover Kingdom and lasting peace, the worthless, the traitorous, and the undesirables must be purged." His tone was cold and unfeeling as if it were an inevitable truth.

Zyrex and Veriol shared a final look, each recognizing the deadly resolve that had settled in Lux's eyes. They turned back to him, nodding in solemn unison. "We'll follow your lead, Lord Kira," they affirmed, before looking to Sebastian. "And yours as well, Lord Silva."

Pausing for a moment, Sebastian calmed his breath and nodded indifferently. "Good." He then straightened in his chair and snapped his fingers. "Pennyworth."

The butler opened his suitcase, his hands shimmering with a silver-gray aura. From the case, four wine glasses floated gracefully into the hands of the four men. Alfred then produced a black wine bottle and positioned himself once more behind them, a silent guardian.

"What's this?" Lux asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied Sebastian closely.

"A drink—and a toast to new friends and allies. If we're going to create the Clover Kingdom of our dreams, we need to trust each other. So, I offer you this drink. The question is, do you dare to take it?" Sebastian held his glass aloft, giving it a gentle shake.

Lux considered him for a moment before a sly smile crept onto his face. "Well, of course I do, Sebastian. We're comrades after all!" His somber demeanor melted away, replaced by that same insincere grin, as Veriol and Zyrex nodded alongside him.

Sebastian nodded in response, and with another snap of his fingers, Alfred uncorked the bottle, pouring first for his master.

"Clover Cuvée," Veriol whistled, his eyes wide with surprise as he glanced at the label on the bottle. "Very impressive stuff." Jealousy laced his words; the Clover Kingdom's most luxurious brand was reserved for royalty and their closest vassals. He'd only had the honor of tasting it once at Augustus' coronation ceremony.

Zyrex, though equally impressed, masked his astonishment better. As for Lux… well, he savored it daily, and its value mattered little to him. Yet, it was his favorite, and he never shared his stash with anyone. So, being offered an extra glass today felt like a small indulgence.

Alfred moved around the table, filling everyone's glasses to the brim until the bottle was empty. He then resumed his position behind Sebastian, standing at the ready.

A slow smile tugged at Sebastian's lips as he raised his glass high. "To friends, to allies, to our future!"

"To our future!" they echoed, raising their glasses. But no one took a sip, eyes shifting nervously around the table, each waiting for the others to go first. The trio's gaze finally settled on Sebastian.

His smile widened, and without hesitation, he tilted his head back and took a large gulp of his drink, glugging it down with surprising grace, managing to retain his regal bearing despite the crude display.

Only after Sebastian had finished did the others' smiles grow more genuine. They followed suit, lifting their glasses to their lips and drinking deeply. The quartet enjoyed the beverage in silence, relishing the quiet camaraderie that filled the room.

Once the glasses were empty, Alfred collected them with his telekinetic touch, packing them back into his suitcase, leaving the air thick with the weight of their shared resolve and the promise of what lay ahead.

The quartet exchanged a small smile, but the moment was short-lived. Suddenly, the trio's expressions twisted into horror as a churn surged in their stomachs. They toppled from their chairs, clutching their midsections, their bodies writhing in agony. Vitriol and Zyrex watched in abject terror as their veins darkened, bulging a ghastly purple beneath their skin. They wanted to scream for help, to beg Lux for aid or plead for mercy from Sebastian, but no sound escaped their lips; only frothy bubbles formed at the corners of their mouths.

They convulsed on the floor, twisting in pain, and within moments, their bodies began to melt away like wax under a flame. Their blood, intestines, and organs faded rapidly, leaving behind nothing but hollowed skeletons.

Lux, however, was more fortunate. As soon as he sensed something amiss, he began circulating his mana. Light magic held holy properties; it could banish evil and cure sickness. He planned to draw on these very powers to heal Acier and win her favor in the future. But a wave of dread washed over him as he realized the chaotic state of his mana—it was frenzied and unmanageable. Lux struggled to cast any grimoire magic, forced to rely solely on brute force to contain the poison coursing through him, halting its effects without the aid of spells.

He looked up at Sebastian Silva, who watched him with cold detachment from his chair. How dare this pretender look down on me? But with time slipping away, Lux refused to waste another moment on insults. "How… a-are… you… n-not… affected?!"

Lux had taken a sip of the wine, confident that Sebastian would never dare to poison it after drinking first. The very notion that this fake royal would endanger himself was ludicrous. Yet, here Sebastian sat, untouched by the plague that had consumed the others.

Sebastian spoke plainly, his tone calm and unruffled. "I've recently made some good friends. One of them is a highly skilled poison mage. But not just with poisons; she's also well-versed in hexes. So I had her cast a curse on the drink. In exchange for a significant amount of power, she ensured that the first person to drink would be entirely immune to the curse's effects."

"You bastard!" Lux gasped hoarsely, anger mixing with fear as he struggled against the tightening grip of the poison. He fought to stabilize his mana, focusing on containing the toxic surge, careful not to agitate his condition further. "How did you know you'd drink first?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes, his demeanor exuding an air of superiority. "You're arrogant, but not foolish. What noble hasn't faced assassination attempts? You've been trained from a young age to have a servant or assistant taste-test your meals and drinks. Naturally, you wouldn't trust a drink from a stranger without good reason to believe it isn't poisoned. So I had to take the first sip."

He paused, a slight smirk creeping onto his lips as he shrugged. "But let's say one of you had made a miscalculation—like insisting Alfred take the first sip or ordering one of your lackeys to be the sacrifice. I was prepared for that too."

Sebastian stuck out his tongue, and Lux narrowed his eyes in disbelief. Etched on the back of his tongue was a six-point star array, inscribed in black ink, a mark of his cunning and preparedness.

"Consider it a precaution," Sebastian continued, a hint of satisfaction lacing his voice. "A little insurance against the inevitable treachery of those around me."

Lux gritted his teeth, feeling the warmth of blood dripping from his nose, eyes, and ears. "W-why are you d-doing this? You hate Conrad!" Lux Kira demanded an answer, his voice strained but defiant. The entire aristocracy knew of Sebastian Silva's relentless opposition to Conrad Leto, Julius Novachrono, House Vermillion, and their sympathizers among the common folk. So why was he sabotaging their efforts now? Why was he doing this?

Sebastian shrugged, the indifference in his expression almost mocking. "I've had a change of heart in recent days. I don't find Leto's ideas as… unbearable."

Lux's frustration boiled over. Don't give me that bullshit! He coughed up a mouthful of phlegm, his vision blurring slightly as he glared up at Sebastian. "Enough games, Silva. Give…me the antidote."

Sebastian sighed dramatically, looking down at Lux with an unsettling glimmer of pity in his eyes. "I can't give you something that doesn't exist."

Lux froze, disbelief washing over him. No way. This coward wouldn't dare come here without such a thing. Sebastian Silva was the type of person who never acted without backup plans upon backup plans. He wouldn't stake everything on some harlot's hexes and arrays. There had to be an antidote!

Just as Lux was about to risk everything and lunge at Sebastian, the Silva Patriarch continued, "But let's say there was…" Lux snapped his attention back to him, heart racing. "...why on earth would I ever give it to you?"

Sebastian leaned his head on his right fist, his gaze oozing contempt as he studied Lux with a sense of disdain. "Do you really think I'm here solely because of Conrad, Lux?"

What? Lux struggled to grasp the meaning behind Sebastian's words, confusion and battling with his growing fear.

"I've been planning to kill you for a while, you know why?" Sebastian added, his voice slow and deliberate, each word dripping with malice.

A dry lump formed in Lux's throat as a chill crept through him. "W-why?" he managed to ask, the word barely a whisper, but the weight of the question hung heavily in the air between them.

Sebastian held up one finger, his gaze piercing as he leaned forward slightly. "First, your lust for my wife."

Huh? Lux widened his eyes in disbelief as Sebastian elaborated. "As sneaky as you think you are, you've never properly hidden how you fancy Acier. It's actually small talk at many noble gatherings, where it seemed everyone but you were aware. No one would dare slip up in front of the Lux Kira, that they are aware of the source of your wet dreams."

"Naturally, my wife knows as well. I'll be sure to inform her of your good riddance. I've toyed with that woman my entire life, but even I never dared to tease her with you. The sheer disgust on her face whenever she was in your presence, or even if your name was mentioned, was enough for even me to know my limits."

Lux began to cough up blood, but Sebastian unperturbed, remained indifferent as he raised another finger. "Two, you dared to covet my House and my son."

This accusation didn't need an explanation. House Kira had never hidden its greed for House Silva, and the hundreds of marriage offers for Nozel had all come from them or proud vassals of House Kira.

Sebastian then raised a third finger. "Finally, you've repetitively targeted me."

He knows? Lux's eyes widened in incomprehension as he cried tears of blood, his skin taking on a ghastly purple hue. He began to itch himself desperately, fighting against the poison coursing through his veins.

Sebastian recalled a particular marriage proposal from four days ago, a smirk forming on his lips. "Originally, I thought that was from Augustus…" he began slowly, a chuckle escaping him. "...But then I remembered there's no way that fat lazy pig would ever bother to write an offer himself. You did a decent job imitating his handwriting. I had to dig up some old files to find a letter I knew was actually written by him, and compare. They were pretty close, which is why I didn't notice at first. But once I compared them closely, there were obvious differences. The way those I's were dotted and T's dashed was reminiscent of another Kira."

Sebastian shot Lux a smug grin that made him pant in horror.

Sebastian scratched his head, laughter bubbling to the surface. "Let me guess your plan. You offered me a daughter of House Kira, hoping I would accept. With the pillar of my family dying, you thought it was obvious I would because the only way for House Silva to retain power and influence after Acier passed was to tie ourselves to House Kira. You wanted me to accept, and then you would declare to the world that Sebastian Silva didn't even have the decency to wait for his wife's death, thoroughly ruining my reputation."

"I would then undoubtedly be stripped of my power, divorced, and kicked from House Silva. You could swoop in to save a dying Acier Silva with your light magic, win her heart and loyalty, and marry the woman of your fantasies. Oh, and take House Silva for yourself as an added bonus."

"How am I doing so far?" Sebastian looked down coldly at Lux, who lay on the oakwood floor, belly down, retching and reaching out his hand toward him.

But Sebastian didn't care; he continued to speak, almost to himself. "However, to your puzzlement, you never received a response. You couldn't afford to wait much longer because Acier is on death's door. So when you heard Alfred was snooping around for you, you started plotting again."

"You invited me to join your group and become part of this operation. Then you would purposely leave traces that would track back to me, which no one would doubt because it's well-known that Sebastian Silva despises Conrad Leto and everything he stands for. No one would doubt it, and I probably wouldn't even get a fair trial because you control the courtroom. I'd be executed before I could confess anything and at least bring you down with me."

"Afterwards, a helpless House Silva, with its greatest military strength dying and its patriarch was gone, would have to give you what you wanted to survive: Acier Silva. Even if she weren't willing, to protect her children, she'd have to marry you."

Sebastian then nodded, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at Lux, who panted and began to crawl toward him. "It was a good plan, Lux, though I'm sorry to say Acier is beyond saving. It'd be a waste of effort. Nozel would probably marry a girl from House Vermillion and be done with everything."

Lux slumped heavily on the floor, struggling against the weight of despair and the poison coursing through his veins. "You'll… never… get… away… with… this," he gasped, each word a monumental effort.

Sebastian smiled, an expression that oozed confidence and triumph. "Oh, I think I will… isn't that right…" He tilted his head back, looking past Alfred to a figure standing in the shadows.

A short, pale-skinned boy with short, black hair combed back, save for one lock that hung down over the center of his forehead, stepped forward. He bore a small black dot just below his lower lip and above his chin, giving him an almost otherworldly appearance. His long-sleeved green robe flared out at the collar, and over this, he wore a white stole adorned with a clover shape on the back. Beneath, a pair of black boots completed his enigmatic look. He observed the unfolding scene with an emotionless demeanor as if it were all just a passing spectacle in someone else's life.

"...Damnatio?" Sebastian prompted, his broad smile betraying a sense of satisfaction as the boy stepped out from the shadows, his movements deliberate and calm. Damnatio Kira lowered his head to look at his dying father, his expression inscrutable. No one knew what thoughts swirled in his mind, what emotions flickered behind those cold, dark eyes.

Author's Notes:

[1] In the work, Damnatio's father is unnamed, we only know he did something to cause Damnatio to judge him, well let's fill that plot point here

[2] Another unnamed or shown character in the work. All we know is that Salim's father's influence let him get away with many things. Salim's name was Veriol in the OG one-shot, so I'm giving that name to his father

[3] Another unnamed OC, father of Xerx Lugner, vice-captain of the Purple Orcas. His son is a totally indifferent cold-hearted bastard, so his father should be similar

[4] The official English translated name is White Serpent, so I'm changing the name from White Snake

[5] Should I change Richita's name to Lichita? The official Viz Translation. I used Richita before because it's the Romanji, but Lichita sounds more German, and I think represents the significance of the 'L' in Liebe's name. What do you think?


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