Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.3 - Princess Isis, She's No Heroine
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"...Part of me wants to kill them. They might not threaten me directly, but they're seeds that could endanger Arthur someday. I can't deny that."
"Is that really necessary? They're just an adopted daughter and a bastard son, aren't they?"
Lee Han couldn't understand why she was so fixated on them.
Sure, topping the academy was impressive, but their bloodlines couldn't compare to little Arthur's.
The others might be diamond in the rough, but next to her bloodline, they'd be cheap neighborhood trinkets.
"True, for now."
"...For now?"
"What I'm about to tell you is a top secret known only to me and two others. So don't go blabbing about it."
"Then I won't listen."
"I won't allow refusal. Just hear me out."
...What a dictator.
"First, Irene Windler. My uncle adopted her because she looks exactly like his late wife."
"Tch, so noble tastes run high-end. Bringing in a stand-in like that."
"Don't mock it. Longing strikes commoners and nobles alike. He must miss his wife dearly."
So it made sense he'd take in a foster daughter who resembled her so closely...
"Royal analysis suggests Irene Windler is quite likely his 'biological' daughter."
"...Pardon?"
"She might be the only legitimate daughter of my uncle, second in line to the throne. His wife's cause of death was a fall. She was full-term at the time, so there's a good chance she gave birth before passing."
"F-Fell and survived?"
"My aunt was an elf. A noble being with mysteries rivaling royalty's, so it's not impossible she lived long enough to deliver."
"......"
"That shocking, huh? Even I was stunned when I learned."
"...Hmm."
Well, his shock and hers were probably worlds apart.
'Why does she feel so familiar...'
Secret birth, extraordinary lineage, rising from poverty to mage and academy top student.
And finally adopted by a duke's family because she resembles the duchess.
This was totally...
'Romance fantasy heroine setup, isn't it?'
Back in his NCO days, he'd read comics like that during boring night shifts.
The kind where you possess a romance game or novel and turn your life around...
'Nah, overthinking it.'
Lee Han tried to shake off the silly notion.
A woman with a tragic past deserved warm sympathy—that was the mature response.
"But Irene Windler has something peculiar. She constantly mutters 'I have somewhere else to return to,' and there's intel about a strange contract: if uncle takes another foster daughter within two years, her adoption ends."
"It's the real deal."
"Pardon? What was that?"
"N-Nothing."
"?"
Lee Han was convinced.
That woman. Definitely.
'...So I'm not the only one?'
He hadn't arrogantly assumed he was unique in this weird setup.
But he hadn't expected another to pop up so suddenly.
In such an obvious genre, no less.
'So this world is a romance fantasy?'
Then why did it feel so hopeless and miserable?
As Lee Han pondered that,
"However, it's still just suspicion. We haven't confirmed she's his daughter. Unless proof emerges later, Irene Windler remains a potential foe. Roan Dimitri de Lionel is different."
"Why him?"
Was he one of those future northern grand dukes common in romance fantasies?
"There's suspicion he might possess 'foresight.'"
"......"
"The kid Roan started shining seven years ago out of nowhere. At thirteen, he beat a training knight from Grand Duke Lionel's house and made him his squire. Every venture others deemed impossible succeeded. He even debuted an advanced new Fighting Technique, proving his genius."
"...Whoa."
"Now he's a top successor candidate in the Lionel house. Even as a bastard, those feats and talents earned the grand duke's favor and opportunities. So—"
Her explanation faded from his ears.
No, he could guess without listening.
It was a cliché as blatant as Irene's.
'What's this one? A regressor?'
One of the hottest genres lately.
Title like 'I Returned from a Doomed World to Save It' or something.
'For real?'
As Lee Han's emotions tangled, her spiel neared its end.
"—His successes are improbable without foreknowledge. We suspect he's awakened the legendary mage's gift of foresight. A figure like that becoming grand duke would be an existential threat to the crown."
"...Doubt it."
"Hm? Got a hunch?"
"N-No. Just... his face doesn't scream that type."
"Ho, tied to your 'instinct,' I suppose? I'll keep it in mind."
"......Ahem."
Not a lie, but it felt off somehow.
'Looks like sis is barking up the wrong tree... but how do I explain without sounding nuts.'
Explaining reincarnation, possession, regression would just tire his mouth and paint him crazy.
'Whatever.'
Better keep quiet.
Silence is half the battle—even in this medieval fantasy world.
Romance fantasy or regressor tale, who cared?
'As long as I eat well and live well.'
...Crush anyone who gets annoying.
Lee Han had declared he'd keep life simple, not tangled.
"—Anyway, you get why I want them dead."
"Yeah, yeah, dangerous folks."
"...Your face shows zero empathy."
"I get it. Now spill—what's the favor you want?"
"......Hopeless as ever."
When you're dead serious and get a lukewarm reaction, the mood sours.
Isis spoke curtly.
"I need to know they won't threaten Arthur's power."
"Then just drag 'em here and ask."
"How can I trust people's words? I don't."
"Then what do you trust?"
"Their circumstances and the present."
"......"
Pretty solid line.
Hit him right in the heart.
Guess you need that eloquence to be king.
"That's why I want you to check them out. Your eyes—no, your senses—will uncover anything."
"...All that buildup, and it's just that?"
He nearly gaped.
What? Use his senses to gauge if they're threats and report back?
After all the pomp, the ask was anticlimactic.
"No. Don't judge on one look."
"...??"
"They're young. No ambition now doesn't mean none later—people change. Constant surveillance and observation are needed."
"...Just checking: how long?"
"At least their three years at the academy. That should reveal their intentions."
"......"
"So I ask you—"
"Not buying. No sale."
"......Interrupting is a terrible habit."
"Handy in this situation, though."
"......Hmm."
"Wha?"
Arthur adorably tilted his head, unused to his mother's dissatisfied pout when things didn't go her way. Lee Han ignored it, holding firm.
"Talk's over? Then..."
He'd leave without looking back.
Even cruel pranks had limits—
Plop.
"......Huh?"
"Drink it."
A small glass vial tossed at him as he turned to leave without hesitation.
Purple liquid sloshed inside. Lee Han blinked.
"You expect me to chug something without knowing what it is?"
"You won't regret it. I swear on the Pendragon name—no tricks in that potion."
"......"
A royal staking their house name.
That bound the soul.
They said violators promising election pledges felt their soul rip thousands of times a day in agony, cursed till death.
So Lee Han...
"Well then."
Downed it, of course.
Pop.
Cork off, liquid gone in a gulp.
No loss, she said.
Had to be something worth tempting him with. What...
"......Ugh?!!"
"Heh."
Lee Han reeled in shock. Isis smirked like a victor.
As if the game's winner was set.
And undeniably...
'...I have to take this.'
For good reason.
His 'impotent' member had signaled.
The sensation after '15 years' nearly brought tears.