章 10: Fining
Some people have been complaining about me using Italics for description and thoughts, do you all want me to just leave it bland? Please share your opinion here.
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A sunny morning at the mansion.
When I went out after preparing breakfast, there were letters in the mailbox. Letters in the mailbox that only gathered dust—two of them, no less.
"Oh…"
With excitement, I pulled out the letters, half-expecting love letters.
A pink envelope and a golden one were in my hands. As expected, they were not love letters.
"From Miss Hanna and… a letter from the royal household?"
A letter from the royal household.
Not exactly a welcome one.
Setting aside my disappointment for the absence of love letters, I went upstairs and first tore open the letter from Miss Hanna. Neatly written script. A noble handwriting, as if to prove her noble lineage.
Of course, not as remarkable as our lady's.
But she certainly wrote better than I did.
[It seems the academy matter will be tough. The seniors might be able to handle it, but there's strong backlash from the professors…]
Her letter ended with apologies and a sentence saying she'd try to speak again.
'I'm already grateful, how much more gratitude should I amass?'
Later on, I'd have to secure a masterstroke to gift to Hanna. A sword should suffice… Maybe I should divert one from Michail.
After all, in the novel, Michail uses a holy sword. Diverting one or two swords probably wouldn't be an issue. And if a problem arises, well, Michail can just take a tumble—it wasn't my concern.
Kill two birds with one stone—Michail gets stronger, and how great that would be.
After composing a letter full of gratitude to Hanna and sealing it with beeswax,
"Bad handwriting."
"What's wrong with my writing?"
"It squiggles so much; it's hard to make out."
"It's not visible from there, is it?"
"It's not visible, but your chicken scratches are pretty obvious."
The lady sitting on the bed peered at me and complained about the handwriting on the letter.
If the lady had poor handwriting, I would have retorted with 'Pff. Look who's talking,' but in terms of handwriting, our lady was unbeatable in this world.
No computer was needed.
When the lady picked up a pen, it became a keyboard and the stationery turned into A4 paper, so I couldn't argue whatever she said.
I wanted to ask the lady to write instead of me, but due to privacy, I couldn't get her to ghostwrite.
I put in a lot of effort, but was it really so illegible?
With doubt in my tone, I questioned the lady, and she scrunched her brow, yelling at me, claiming it was the first time she was nauseated by writing.
"It's not my fault. It's the handwriting of this world that's wrong. Why does it have to be so curly and…"
"I can write fine."
"You're the strange one, lady. My hand is blameless."
Today, more than ever, I missed Hangul. I longed to see angular letters.
Ignoring the lady's nitpicking, I organized the letter and began to open the other one lying aside.
A golden envelope
And a letter sealed with the royal red wax.
Olivia's eyes went wide.
"A letter from the royal household?"
"It seems so. But we shouldn't be receiving anything from them."
"Isn't it an invitation to a ball?"
The lady snorted.
If she had a tail like a beastman, it would be wagging rapidly at this point as she reached for me.
"Give it to me!"
"No."
"Why not?"
"You'll just tear it up if it's something upsetting."
The lady had no retort.
Apparently, she had been planning to rip it up if it was content she disliked. The lady politely folded her extended hands and waited her turn.
Surely, she could be mistaken.
Until about a year ago, invitations to balls from the royal household were common. They arrived for the empire's founding day, the Crown Prince's birthday, and even for the third princess's birthday—it's no wonder I feel nervous given those memories are still fresh.
What if it were an invitation?
Pondering in my mind,
I started worrying about whether to attend or not, then fretting about what clothes to dress the lady in. Plus, I was planning in my head which foods to pilfer from the royal buffet.
Since we couldn't refuse an invitation from the emperor, if we had to go, we should get our money's worth—a lesson well taken from the lady.
The lady and I, both caught up in imagining drinking the kimchi broth and attending the ball, looked into each other's eyes and slowly unsealed the beeswax.
The letter inside began to glow enchantingly.
The lady and I, swallowing hard, anticipated the content.
As I unfolded it and took the first peek, I pressed my lips tightly together.
"?"
"What's wrong?"
"…"
"You should see this for yourself."
I presented the letter to the lady with a questioning look.
[You have unpaid fines.
Outstanding Fines: 700,000 gold
If not paid within the designated period (three months from now), properties under the name of Olivia Desmond will be confiscated.
Expected Property for Seizure: Hamel Mountain vicinity grand manor and approximately 73 varieties of precious metals.]
"?!"
The lady's response came in the form of looking out the window. 'Ahem,' she coughed, turning red at the ears and thoroughly avoiding turning back around.
It wasn't a ball invitation, but a demand for payment.
Even a seizure notice threatening to put a red sticker on things. A chilly air swept through the room. Despite it being early fall outside, the atmosphere in the room was colder than a winter breeze.
"Oh… This one caught me off guard."
"… Me too."
"I paid 300,000 gold, but to have this much left…"
"…How much is remaining?"
"700,000 gold."
"Hiccup…!"
The lady had hiccups.
She quietly pushed away the plate of chocolates that was on the bed. It seemed she was preparing to fast from now on.
I, unhesitantly, swept the lady's chocolates aside.
After all, if you don't want to live, you must truly conserve.
700,000 gold.
If 10,000 gold is about 10 million won, then 700,000 gold would be about 7 billion, right?
'…This is a big problem.'
How to make 7 billion won in three months.
We couldn't even take out loans as we were blacklisted for credit.
Seeking an answer, I looked at the lady, but she stood still, gazing out the window like a broken nutcracker doll.
"The weather is great!"
Outside, it was raining.
***
When you think about it, it's a simple task.
Making 700,000 gold.
Despite constantly whining about being broke, as a possessor of a possessed body, it isn't right to struggle for money.
Since I've already managed to earn the hefty sum of 300,000 gold before, I'm certain I can easily make 700,000 gold.
With an unyielding spirit, I stood in front of the mansion's wall, which still displayed a huge warning sign, just as it had before.
[Expel the wicked villainess from our village.]
Last time, it had demanded her exile to a convent, but now the villagers' heartwarming message was upgraded to calling for her expulsion from the village. A part of my heart warmed at their 'kindness'.
"Soon, it might be time to upturn the guards."
I had given up on the mansion's exterior thanks to those who express their artistic souls on someone else's wall.
It's no use erasing it; they just scribble again.
Thanks to them, my workload has decreased while the insults have increased—a two-for-one deal.
I've surrendered, and strangely, it's quite liberating.
So, I decided to exploit our mansion's wall actively for once.
Brush in hand and busy splashing fluorescent paint on the wall, I was suddenly intercepted by a teddy bear flung from above.
Thud. As the teddy bear met its end with a sound, I locked eyes with it, and the lady of the house bellowed from above.
"Hey, you rascal! Don't deface the wall!"
I offered the lady a wry smile and put in earplugs.
If she has complaints, then don't end up in debt in the first place.
-Swish… Whisk.
Realistically, making 700,000 gold solely through adventurer work in just three months is an impossible task.
Especially while taking care of the lady, earning money itself is a difficult job.
Most adventurers set a 1-2 day period for lucrative quests, but that's impossible for me.
I had to focus on quantity over quality.
With Hanna, a B-ranked adventurer, away at the academy, it was also impossible to take on higher-ranked quests.
That's why I came up with this alternative.
[Wanted: Work for the Swordsman who Captured the Infamous 'Adventurer Hunter.' ★Anonymity Guaranteed★
1. I will do any job.
2. I will take any sum of money.
3. I will even find your lost puppy.
4. I am open to bounty hunting requests.
-Please write your request below.]
If there weren't jobs with guaranteed high income, then it was just about creating them.
It was the best job prospect I could think of.
The only option I saw for a quick cash influx.
Our mansion is located behind the bustling town area.
The guard patrols pass by our mansion, so do the town's merchants.
While the normal route to the bustling area takes 30 minutes, cutting through the alleys beside our mansion gets you there in just 10 minutes.
Many people pass by the mansion.
Perhaps that's why it has become a favorite date spot for couples and unwittingly transformed into a community space for the townspeople.
-Let's love forever. Lia♥Gorf
└She cheated on me.
└What are you saying? You cheated first.
└Pfft. Sweet!
└Where do you live?
└Are you mad? Annoyed? Can't stand it because you're so angry, huh? But you don't know where I live, do you?
In this medieval world without cellphones, Olivia's wall had become a space for communication.
It functioned like a bulletin board.
Maybe this could turn a decent profit, especially with my impressive résumé.
So I decided to seek work through the wall. I'd earn livelihood money through adventurer work, and take on big jobs through requests posted on the wall.
Wouldn't that quickly settle the debt?
Feeling a sense of fulfillment while looking at the wall, I realized something was missing.
"Ah…"
I forgot to write the minimum fee for the requests.
Even delivery services have a minimum order amount, and I couldn't neglect to set one for myself.
[Minimum request fee.]
Hmm…
[10,000 gold.]
Perfect.
***
Day passed.
When I stood before the wall again,
"What's this?"
I couldn't help but be startled.
Someone had taken seriously what I started as a half-joke.
[Request submitted.
●I commission you to track down a criminal who escaped during transport.
Request fee: 300,000 gold.
#If captured alive, an additional 300,000 gold will be paid. If the task is completed within a week, an extra bonus of 400,000 gold will be granted.]
For a fleeting moment, the image of a philanthropist resembling an insect flashed through my mind.
*** Malik POV***
The eldest son of Histania.
Histania Malik is a perfectionist.
The child who most resembles his father.
The son who bears all of his father's expectations.
And indeed, he himself wanted to be like his father.
Malik never missed taking the top honors at the academy and, after graduating, he followed in his father's footsteps and entered the Royal Knights.
Acknowledged by all and satisfied with life, he now stands at a crucial juncture, with aura within his grasp.
For Malik, this is the most critical time. He must master aura quickly before he loses the knack for it.
Aura at 27.
Given that the youngest aura user in the empire was 25, he wasn't late. Rather, it was quite early.
The average age of aura users in the empire is early thirties. He thought he had entered the vanguard, but now that distinction had lost its meaning.
Since the youngest aura user had emerged from Histania.
The younger sibling he had disregarded became a supernova overnight, dealing a heavy blow to Malik.
Furthermore, since the transportation mission of the notorious 'Adventurer Hunter' Pascal, which bore his name, had failed disastrously, all the achievements he had amassed were now in jeopardy.
"Dammit. Damn it all… Dammit…!"
"Master, why are you so angry? Shall I massage your shoulders?"
"…Shut up."
Malik lifted his head.
A red-haired man smiles radiantly at him. The man, who held a grave posture as if he had encountered a deity, was a mercenary hired out of necessity to rectify this mishap.
He had been employed because of his undeniable expertise and the promise of anonymity, but facing him now was quite disagreeable.
"If you command it, Master, I could even pretend to be dead."
At Ricardo's words, Malik's lips sealed shut.
***
The carriage was silent.
A carriage worth easily 500,000 gold.
Plush seats.
A far cry from the one-shilling carriage that felt like it would trigger a herniated disk after just an hour's ride.
My purpose for being here was singular.
To meet with the client.
[●I commission you to track down a criminal who escaped during transport.
└Thank you for your request, esteemed customer. Please leave the location and date for our rendezvous. ^.^
└Tomorrow. 11:30 PM in front of the black carriage by the fountain.
└Appreciate your request application, 🙂]
As soon as I climbed aboard the carriage, Malik, with hair the same color as Hanna's, was already seated inside.
Cross-legged and not even pretending to look at me, I bowed my head at him.
"Greetings!"
Malik furrowed his brow, displeased.
He was the person who had embarrassed his father, and the very one with whom he had recently quarreled.
It was clear that requesting service from such an individual didn't sit well with him, so his expression was complex.
"Allow me to formally introduce myself."
I pulled out a neatly-crafted business card from inside my chest.
[Name: Ricardo]
[House chores, cooking, odd jobs, I'll handle it all! The prettiest lady in the world, Olivia Desmond's butler, at your service.]
The business card written in sleek lettering.
And an introduction with a strange adjective attached.
Custom-made after bartering chocolates with the lady.
A handmade business card reluctantly made after convincing the lady who detested having to write such words. It contained the lady's artistic value, adamant about including 'the prettiest lady in the world'.
Receiving the business card, Malik perused it with evident distaste.
Perhaps he envied the phrase, 'the prettiest lady in the world's butler'. I knew it.
Despite her slightly eccentric character and unwillingness to heed others' words – a stubborn general in her own right – the lady's beauty was unmatched, even the heroine would need to take a step back.
"A commoner?"
However, Malik seemed irritated by something else.
"A nameless commoner… and Olivia Desmond?"
"Yes, that's correct. I am Ricardo, the direct butler to Miss Olivia Desmond."
I offered my hand carefully for a handshake.
But Malik did not accept it.
Awkward, I scratched the back of my head with my free hand.
"Ahaha…"
'Well, that's embarrassing.'
"Now I understand why you didn't reveal your affiliations to my father."
"Well, it's such a prestigious name, I was hesitant to flaunt it."
"No, it's because your household is ruined, isn't it?"
I wonder why Ruin, and now Malik, think our house is ruined.
We're still prospering, after all.
"We're not ruined. Precisely speaking, it's Miss Olivia who's ruined, not our Desmond family, which is as sound as a mage tower, I assure you."
"Looking at it another way, you're the ruined one, right?"
"Then that's how it is."
I wanted to argue with him, but I couldn't muster the courage to talk back to the lord who had saved us from the streets.
Who else could so easily offer to make 700 million won? Instead of groveling at his feet, I should be thankful.
To him, the moneyed man is the brother.
The sister. That's just how it is.
"Do you need quick cash?"
Malik teased me.
"Do you need money?"
"Yes, I required some."
"Hmm…"
Malik stroked his chin.
A sharp jawline in a black uniform.
Just as described in the novel, he was good-looking.
But also just as depicted, he had a horrible temper.
Malik asked me again.
"Because of the fine, right?"
"…What?"
"You, taking on this job. It's because of the fine, isn't it?"
I didn't answer.
I didn't want to be swept away by his provocation.
In the novel, Malik appears as a supporting character who harbors unrequited love for Chartia.
Between the attention stolen by Michail and his own diminishing prestige, Malik had fallen for Chartia, who consoled his wounded heart.
It was a love triangle.
The squabble to win Chartia's favor was quite entertaining.
Malik is a reasonably significant supporting character.
Perhaps that's why he's the kind-hearted sub male lead.
Arrogant and prideful, yet, unexpectedly, he took great care of those in his circle.
His personality may be a mess, but he ensured the utmost safety and care for his people.
If I were one of his, maybe the treatment I received would be different.
One thing was certain: he knew how to look after his own.
Which is why he entrusted the job to me.
The request was likely to capture Pascal alive. There wouldn't be any other job fitting for Malik to ask me to handle than that one.
In the story, Pascal was a genius at escaping prison. Captured one moment and then escaping to pop up in front of the protagonist with a 'tada'.
I've seen the scars on the faces of the knights guarding the carriage door. There must have been some friction during the escort.
Normally, the knights would have been dismissed, and the responsibility for the fiasco would have been questioned. But the fact that he trusted me with the task probably meant he wanted to quietly settle matters.
He had such a strong sense of loyalty when it came to these matters, though his manner of speaking left much to be desired.
Holding back any provocations, I suggested to Malik with intent to resolve the situation quickly.
"It's a bit of a sensitive question, haha. Shall we quickly talk about the request?"
"Pretending to have dignity, are we?"
"Haha… I have my own dignity to maintain, so please overlook any rudeness."
"Hmm."
Malik mulled it over, thumbing his fingers.
Wondering whether he found me trustworthy or was simply irritated by me, he started to ruminate.
"How much is it?"
"Pardon?"
"How much is the fine? The empire is strict about black magic usage."
Why was he asking about this?
It's not like he's going to pay it for me.
Foreseeing his possible anger, I answered him.
"It's 1 million gold."
"1 million gold…"
Malik pondered again.
It would be nice if he shared what was on his mind. Keeping it to himself seemed petty.
Is he trying to belittle me?
Or is he considering terminating the request?
But the one thing that was clear was that I wasn't the inferior party in this negotiation.
Only I could nullify black magic.
And I'm the only one who can catch Pascal without anyone else knowing.
If he asks other aura users, Histania's reputation would drop, and if he commissions an information guild, it might cost more than what he's offering me, not to mention the information about this incident getting leaked.
Even at a higher price, employing me was in Malik's best interest.
"One week."
"What do you mean?"
"You must've had an idea about the kind of request it is. Pascal, that is. Do you think you can catch him in a week?"
"The mantis, or should I say, the 'Adventurer Hunter'?"
Malik nodded.
I couldn't give him a sure answer. Catching him would be easy, but I have no clue where this guy is hiding.
"I'll try my best, but the location isn't clear…"
"What if you knew exactly where to find him?"
"It wouldn't take me 30 minutes."
After a moment of consideration, Malik spoke.
"Here's the thing. I still doubt your abilities. I'm not sure if you can really capture Pascal."
He was right.
Everything was already handled by the time he had arrived.
"I can't get involved personally, though. I might be able to catch him, but…"
"No, Sir. If you go, it's guaranteed you'll die."
Malik gave me a harsh look.
He seemed annoyed by my dismissal, but what could I do when I was right?
If Malik, who has not yet awakened his aura, fought Pascal, not only would he be on the receiving end of a performance art tragedy, but his body might not even be recoverable.
"Don't be presumptuous."
"Then go alone, Sir. It's not my concern anymore."
"Is there another job with such a high income?"
"If Sir fails, then I can catch him later. The bounty is quite substantial."
"So it was you after all."
Malik relinquished his stubbornness.
"Fine, I'll admit it. It's impossible for me right now."
He had the insight to know it.
He had seen real combat in the Royal Knights.
He possessed extraordinary skill in swordsmanship.
Perhaps he's around Lv. 5 in terms of skills.
In swordsmanship, Malik was indeed superior to Hanna. It was only his aura that had yet to emerge. As an elite among elites, he knew full well who he could handle.
"Three knights sustained critical injuries, two were severely wounded in the operation transporting Pascal. They were all outstanding knights."
Malik looked at me squarely as he spoke.
"The fact that those guys failed means, it would have been impossible for me too, and even more so for Hanna. So that means you alone suppressed Pascal at that moment."
"That's correct. It was me."
I plainly divulged the truth.
Seeking humility at this moment would likely result in even greater folly.
Now was the optimal time to showcase the weapons at my disposal.
Malik appeared to have been waiting for my confession and said,
"Let's add one condition while entrusting this request to you."
"A condition?"
"Yes, a condition. When you go to catch Pascal. Take me with you."
"I refuse."
"I'll round up the 1 million gold for you."
Malik gripped the handle of his sword firmly as he spoke.
"Shouldn't the owner of a dog take personal revenge?"
I sensed Malik's confident smile and had an intuition.
'This guy is going to be terribly crushed by Pascal.'
But I didn't want to trample on the courage of a sandbag that pays to learn life's wisdom.
He should pay for his lack of manners, after all.
"Alright. However, Sir, you must also keep what you learn about me confidential."
"Agreed."
After drafting a simple contract,
Malik and I arrived at a dilapidated cathedral on the outskirts of the village.
*** ***
Within the dimly lit cathedral.
Untouched by human hands, the walls were filled with green moss, and droplets of water fell from the ceiling.
The atmosphere was such that it seemed a ghost might emerge at any moment.
It seems I'll have to sleep next to Lady Olivia when I return home.
"Excuse me, Malik."
"Call me sir."
"Then, Malik."
"?"
Malik glared at me due to the shortened form of address.
I couldn't bring myself to use honorifics due to my shallow pride. I don't use honorifics even for the lady, so why should I call you 'sir'?
A half-respectful tone suited the presumptuous secondary male lead.
Ignoring Malik's sharp gaze that suggested his annoyance, I spoke of my trembling heart in fear.
"Why have you asked to meet at such a late hour? It's quite scary."
"We need to avoid prying eyes. If a civilian were to spot us, it could damage my image."
"Still, it's a bit scary to come to an abandoned cathedral at such a late hour."
"Bear with it. That's why you're getting paid handsomely."
Definitely.
Since the boss said to shut up,
all my questions were answered.
To think it's the boss who tries to solve everything with money.
I wanted to keep seeing that face for a long while.
Money is indeed powerful.
With thoughts of my soon-to-be swollen wallet, I gripped my sword.
"Is Pascal here?"
"Once the incident happened, surveillance was immediately set up. He probably settled here around three days ago."
"Hmm… certainly…"
It's a place Pascal would like.
In the novel, Pascal favored places where sunlight couldn't reach, like dark caves or gloomy places. Especially since black magic was his main strength. Perhaps it was only natural.
Magic in itself is stronger in the darkness, after all.
Crossing over the cathedral's main entrance, we entered the chapel, clearing the cobwebs as we slowly made our way inside.
The moment we stepped through the chapel's door…
"Be careful."
I quickly grabbed the hem of Malik's clothes, who was leading the way.
- Crash.
"What are you doing…"
Malik, who had fallen, glared at me fiercely. Instead of responding, I pointed at the chapel door with my finger.
A black arrow was lodged in the door, having pierced through the wall.
Gulp.
Malik swallowed his saliva and remained silent. If it had been just a bit later, he would have missed becoming a lord and instead departed for heaven.
"Get a grip, Malik."
"…My apologies."
Malik swiftly acknowledged his mistake.
He felt ashamed to have fallen for a trap that a novice would encounter, and the fact that he received help from me was true.
Without making excuses, Malik placed his hand on the handle, ready to draw his sword at any moment.
He looked much better than his relaxed appearance from earlier.
"I'll open the door."
Having confirmed Malik's resolve, I reached for the chapel's doorknob.
-Creeeeak.
Inside the chapel stood a colossal statue of a goddess extending her arms in welcome.
The combination of the cobweb-filled chandeliers and the moonlight shining through the broken ceiling was quite beautiful, but…
"The statue has no face."
The lack of a face on the goddess's head broke the moment.
A chilling atmosphere began to engulf the chapel.
Starting with the expressionless goddess statue.
The hollow chairs of the chapel.
It felt as though someone might be there.
And it seemed like a ghost might pop out from behind at any moment.
Malik bravely strode towards the center of the chapel.
"It seems he has fled after all."
Malik muttered softly.
"I don't think so."
I replied briefly, contradicting him.
That person who values art so much wouldn't simply run away from such an ideal place.
A place where one could hide a corpse.
Where one could create an eerie atmosphere.
Especially knowing Pascal's preferences as I did, I couldn't believe he would abandon this place.
Pascal was obsessed with blaspheming holiness.
In the book, he turned priests and nuns into his works of art. This place would be even more enchanting to him.
I fixed my gaze straight on the empty pulpit.
The pulpit where the pastor would preach.
Now, the egg ghost-like statue of the goddess was spread welcomingly, but usually, it was the place where divine history was most actively unfolded.
With a light swing of my sword toward the goddess statue…
The blade passed silently, cutting through the goddess statue with a hissing sound.
Enraged by my action without consultation, Malik yelled with annoyance.
"What are you doing?"
"It seemed he might be there."
"What might be?"
"Pascal. He's there."
-Kikikikik… Oh dear, you've found me.
A familiar laugh echoed from behind the severed goddess statue.
Malik drew his sword quickly.
"Who's there!"
"Who else? It's Pascal."
Don't get excited.
Didn't you hear what I said earlier?
A dark figure emerged slowly from behind the statue, holding two daggers in a reverse grip just as I had seen at our first meeting, reminiscent of a certain insect.
I took a step back.
With the intention of watching.
Malik also seemed to catch my intention and began distancing himself from Pascal.
Pascal let out a small laugh.
"Welcome to my exhibition."
The praying mantis bowed politely. The way he displayed manners as if he were a gentleman, attempting to court a female, resembled a male mantis.
I raised my hand to voice a question.
"I didn't come to see an insect exhibition."
Pascal quickly lifted his head.
Maybe because he recognized my voice.
His eyes, wide and looking at me, seemed surprised.
"Why are you here?"
He rubbed his eyes.
"Huh?"
He rubbed them again.
"What?"
He seemed unaware of my presence.
The moment they saw my face hidden in the darkness.
-Bang!
A black arrow streaked before my eyes.
[The 'Black Magic Resistance' nullifies Pascal's magic.]
"As happy as I am to see you, this is a rather troublesome way to express your joy."
"You… You are hit, aren't you? I thought I was dreaming."
"I too thought I was dreaming. It would've been quite distressing to lose you."
Pascal let out a deep sigh.
He sighed deeper than a man who had smoked for decades.
"Do you realize how much you've ruined my perfect art?"
"It must have evolved, right?"
As I replied sarcastically, Pascal's voice grew increasingly agitated.
"Evolved? Did you just say it evolved?"
"Yes."
"…You son of a–"
Pascal silenced himself.
Perhaps he hadn't fully realized the truth yet.
With a sense of pity, I spoke to him.
"You're still hiding from mirrors, aren't you? While I'm not confident in my plastic surgery skills, I think I could at least turn you from a mantis into a somewhat better-looking stag beetle."
"Are you joking with me right now?"
"Ah…! Don't scowl like that! It's disgusting, like a mantis."
-Bang…!
Once again, a black arrow flew towards me but to no avail.
"What on earth are you! Magic doesn't work on you… Neither does black magic. Are you a monster?"
Malik also looked at me with eyes that seemed to agree.
A body immune to magic. Such a monster couldn't possibly exist. However, Malik couldn't hide his bewilderment at my all-too-calm demeanor.
"What are you, really? Are you a vampire or from the dragonkin?"
"No. I am just an ordinary butler."
"A butler capable of this?"
Isn't it the transmigrated one who makes this possible?
Using Histania's mindset, I patiently explained to Malik.
"It's talent. Overwhelming talent."
Malik glared at me with frustration in his eyes, but I shrugged my shoulders as if that was all the answer needed.
"Don't act so full of yourself."
"Hmph."
Rumble rumble…
Darkness began to settle over the cathedral. It seemed Pascal's fury was piercing the heavens.
"Don't… ignore me."
Black energy began to seep out from Pascal's daggers.
He seemed ready to display his actual prowess.
I poked Malik in the ribs.
"He's about to make his move. Get ready."
"Right."
"And don't let your guard down."
Considering Pascal's current state of martial prowess, would he be as strong as Hanna with her Aura awakened?
The strength of Aura is absolute.
It can cut through anything.
If one is an Aura user with explosive power, they might be on par with the current Pascal.
Of course, when being referred to as the Archbishop of Madness, even I and Hanna are stronger, but a Pascal from his adventurer-hunter days would have been a worthy opponent.
Perhaps Malik could have a winning chance if he knows how to counter black magic.
The most terrifying aspect of black magic is its unpredictability.
Even witnessing Olivia's brainwashing magic could attest to that.
As someone who is aware of the novel's content, I know what black magic Pascal might use and what its weaknesses are, but ordinary people would never predict it and could be overwhelmed in an instant.
In the case of ordinary magic.
If it's flame magic, one would expect heat and explosion.
For ice, one predicts coldness and aggressive sculptures.
For wind, sharp attacks, but black magic is different.
It could be corrosive effects.
Or curses.
Creating unpredictable variables, it was very challenging to combat.
But that didn't mean black magic was the strongest.
One only needs to look at the likes of Tower Master or Desmond to find magic that crushes black mages.
Drop a meteor or freeze everything around, and no matter how extraordinary a black mage is, they're doomed.
Black magic is easier to learn and creates more powerful effects than ordinary magic, but it always comes at a price.
And the risk of failure was significant.
Much like our Lady Olivia.
As with any field.
The one who is skilled is truly the strongest.
And the talented become the powerful.
Ultimately, Pascal was still unripe.
Before fully falling into heresy, an early Pascal with just a bit of support could be defeated by Malik.
I carefully awaited Malik's battle.
How capable is the current Malik? When would I need to step in? I pondered.
Malik, trembling slightly.
He seemed frightened by Pascal's madness.
"How is it? Do you think you can do it?"
"Of course, I can."
I provoked Malik.
Hoping his normally passive self would find excitement in the challenge and reduce his tension.
"Ah, that guy?"
Pascal, with murderous intent in his eyes.
He was staring straight at us.
"Give it up. Perhaps Hanna could, but Malik? No chance."
"I can do it."
"Are you trying to not pay me the reward because you'll be dead?"
"Shut up."
Malik glared at me.
He had made up his mind.
"Histania does not break a promise once made.."
"That's hard to believe, considering what you showed to Hanna…"
"I just need to keep it from now on."
Malik strode into the chapel.
-Bang!
Black arrows shooting through the walls.
Malik simply dodged them with a tilt of his head.
"You mantis bastard…"
"Why do you keep calling me a mantis!"
"Well. Because you look like one… Sorry, I shouldn't have insulted you for the face you were born with."
Malik closed his mouth.
"I'll make you into one of my works of art."
Pascal leapt into the air like a mantis.
*** ***
Clang! Clatter!
A sharp resonance rang throughout the chapel.
The battle between Malik and Pascal.
It was a tense exchange of offense and defense.
'Maybe it's possible to take him on alone.'
Sharpened by tension, he was driving Pascal into a corner.
When Malik's sword struck down Pascal's dagger, Pascal's stance visibly wavered.
Seeing Malik's overpowering brute strength and his almost demonic swordsmanship, I hypothesized that perhaps Malik might even win this fight.
'As expected from the Histania family.'
The son of the captain of the knights.
The secondary male protagonist, Malik.
The prowess of Histania's eldest son was more remarkable than I thought.
The reason Rowen said Hanna had no talent was becoming clear; Malik's talent was starkly evident.
It only took 1 minute for Malik to grasp Pascal's swordsmanship, 3 minutes to figure out the timing of the dark magic deployment, and less than 5 minutes to understand his opponent, showing off a monstrous adaptability in this battle.
Pascal's magic, which aimed at vulnerabilities, was neutralized by Malik's physical enhancement magic, and with his dazzling swordsmanship, he split the attention and inserted the real strike among the feints to wound Pascal's shoulder with calm precision.
It was credible to speculate that he could capture Pascal alone.
With such skills, most criminals would probably choose to confess rather than resist. I'm not sure if there are only such monsters in the Royal Knights, but it was clear that Malik's skills were on par with Pascal's.
However, if we're to measure up by experiences, Malik couldn't catch up to Pascal.
Pascal had crossed numerous life-or-death situations,
his experiences having slain many adventurers were overwhelming.
Pascal too possessed a talent comparable to Malik's,
and he was honed by countless real battles.
Clang!
Pascal, with a dagger just a bit longer than his forearm, parried Malik's sword and smiled.
"Isn't this a bit too easy?"
From an outsider's perspective, it was clear that Malik was dominating the battle, but Pascal was provoking Malik with a relaxed smile.
Malik showed his frustration at Pascal's bravado.
"Have you gone mad at the thought of going back to prison?"
"No. It's not that. It's just I was scared because of the Histania name, you know."
Thrust. Pascal's dagger came in swift.
Malik could not dodge.
As blood flowed from his cheek, Pascal laughed while licking the blood from the blade with his tongue.
"You're so much worse than I thought. Kihihih."
I, having read the novel, knew that
Pascal was the archbishop of madness.
He was a lunatic with a frequent laugh,
a madman who liked to provoke regardless of the situation.
Especially, this guy's ability was
– Wobble.
to control the human body.
Malik's body staggered greatly.
Since being cut on the cheek by Pascal, it had been hard to stand stable.
As he wobbled more, wounds accumulated on Malik's body, and as Pascal savored the blood on his sword, strength slowly drained from Malik's body.
As his body staggered involuntarily, Malik asked Pascal.
"What have you done?"
Pascal shrugged in response.
"What do you think?"
-Bang.
Malik swung his sword widely.
Targeting Pascal's neck,
he cut across largely but,
the destination of the sword was not Pascal, but a chapel chair split in half.
"Who are you swinging at? It's not even winter yet; are you trying to chop firewood?"
"Shut up…."
"Kihihih…."
Pascal placed his dagger on his belt and walked towards Malik. The sound of his hard shoe heels hitting the chapel floor seemed to signal the end of the battle. Malik trembled greatly.
"Now, Mister Malik… Mister Malik.. what genre do you prefer?"
Inside the striking distance but unable to move, Malik bit his lips tightly and desperately tried to swing his sword, but his body wouldn't budge, it had long escaped his will.
"…"
Pascal's expression started to fill with confidence, knowing Malik had fallen for his dark magic.
He walked right up to Malik's nose and said,
"Are you dreaming of an unreachable love in poignant romance? Or is it a heart-pounding action that excites you? Ah, that might be good too. A comedy of the eldest son of Histania who can't do anything!"
"Shut your mouth. Before I rip that mouth off…!"
"Wow, Mister Malik, keep going."
"Shut up."
"More… more… More! It's said to be the finest artwork; struggle as I tell you."
With eyes drunk on madness, Pascal said to Malik,
"Smile."
Pascal kneaded Malik's face.
Forcing him to put on a smile.
He demanded Malik to show his gums and laugh.
Malik trembled with rage.
Ashamed at his own helplessness, feeling so pitiful for losing the battle due to a single moment of carelessness.
Seeing the hate-filled eyes of Malik, Pascal grinned with satisfaction.
"Finally, one more of my artworks has been completed. What should I name this piece…?"
Pascal spoke to me, sitting on a chair,
"Shall we call it 'Friendship'?"
Seeking approval with his gaze, I replied by slowly standing up from my seat.
"I'm not really into comedy."
"Excuse me?"
"Personally, I prefer romance over comedy."
"The actors in my work don't have the right to choose the genre, you know?"
"Ah! Like how insects can't choose their farm?"
"Just die."
Malik, deprived of his freedom, walked towards me. As the distance between us narrowed, Pascal's laugh became increasingly soaked in insanity.
Holding a sword and casting a spell to strengthen his body, Malik was overwhelmed with self-loathing.
"…Run away. No matter who you are, you can't beat him."
Malik closed his eyes tightly.
The only freedom granted to him at the moment was his mouth.
'Damn it'
I didn't want to be a trash
I said confidently that I could do this
I was too pathetic for not being able to do anything, too ashamed.
I should have given up when he said not to come. Then I could have avoided such humiliation.
Malik bit his lip firmly.
The sight of blood trailing down his jaw was something to be seen.
"I'm sorry."
Malik's sword was pointed at me.
The well-sharpened blade was kindly settled on my neck, ready to cut off my breath.
His hands were trembling with nervous energy. It seemed he was resisting in his own way.
Impressed by his brave appearance, I spoke earnestly.
"You know, Malik."
"Run away…"
"Feels pretty embarrassing right now, doesn't it?"
"Damn it."
Malik cursed vehemently. It seemed he hated me for trampling on his noble sacrifice. But what can I do if teasing him is so fun? It's like eating chicken in front of someone who's dieting—it's one of life's greatest pleasures.
I taunted him.
"You said you could do it alone. I wonder where the person who said it was possible has run off to."
"Shut up."
"See, Hanna is even more amazing. At least she attempted to swat the mantis with a fly swatter."
At the mention of a fly swatter, Pascal's body flinched. It seems to have triggered his PTSD.
"Watch carefully."
I raised my sword.
Filled it with a rich aura.
And stuffed the aura into the sword as if it was about to burst.
"This is the whip of love."
As humans, we usually start by getting hit and learn our lessons through those hits.
"It might sting, but bear with it. That way, the dark magic will break."
[Limits Break (L) is testing the limits of the Aura (A).]
I also spoke to Pascal.
Because the chance for rehabilitation should be given equally to everyone.
"Watch closely, Mr. Mantis."
"?"
"It's an electric fly swatter."
The red aura gathered,
and I felt something was going wrong.
"Oops, I put too much strength into it."
With a flash, Malik's view was illuminated.
*
*
*
Inside the cathedral, where morning sunlight shone.
Malik, regaining consciousness, clutched his throbbing head and stood up.
"What's this?"
Next to him, Pascal lay foaming at the mouth, clutching his hand tightly.
"My lord, have you awakened?"
A knight from his family greeted him with folded hands. It was strange for it to be morning already and even stranger for Pascal to be lying next to him.
While several questions arose, there was one thing that Malik was most curious about.
Malik asked the knight.
"Where did that guy go?"
The knight avoided Malik's eyes as he spoke.
"He said that staying overnight was forbidden, so he returned at dawn yesterday."
Malik thought of the red-haired steward.
Truly a damn rascal.
***
"Let go!"
This time, Pascal was being taken away to be put on display like a pinned insect. I gave him a pitiful shower of tears.
"Don't cry."
Malik, wounded all over and looking haggard, patted my shoulder.
"It's embarrassing. Please, don't cry."
"But… it's so sad to see such a good moneymaker leave…"
"Please…"
It seemed Malik had gained some sort of enlightenment from his battle with Pascal. He might not have mastered the aura, but perhaps he took a step forward as a person.
Indeed, the whip seems to be the answer.
[Histania Malik Lv. 48]
[Job: Royal Knights]
[Favorability: 34]
[Favorite topics of conversation: Understanding situations/Swordsmanship/Paying back favors/Apology/Reconciliation]
[Least favorite topics of conversation: Perfectionism/Being ignored/Discrimination/Pascal/Insects]
He still had much attitude, but it seemed like he had come to see me in a better light.
Malik said to me.
"As soon as things settle down, I'm going to apologize to Hanna."
"You've become quite a person."
"That's right."
Malik's change was pleasant to see.
"If Hanna says she's going to hit you, you have to take it."
"…Will she hit me?"
"She said if she gets the chance, she'll hit you until you're ragged."
"…"
Malik swallowed dryly.
The whip of a sister who had mastered the aura.
It must have hurt quite a bit.
Malik, climbing onto Pascal's transport carriage, spoke.
"The agreed-upon fee for the request can be transferred to the same account I used when I paid the bounty last time, right?"
"Yes."
"Alright."
Before leaving, Malik took out two pieces of paper from deep inside his chest pocket and placed them in my hand.
"And take this."
"What's this?"
Malik spoke calmly as if it were nothing significant.
"It's a dining voucher for 'Friend of the Forest'. It's a tough place to book, so go with the lady when you have the time."
A Friend of the Forest.
One of the top eateries within the top five places in the novel, it seemed like the lady would enjoy it.
Come to think of it.
Malik's way of referring to the lady had changed from the daughter of a ruined household to a noble lady.
I smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
I was in a good mood at the thought of going out with the lady after a long time.
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