Chapter 355
Chapter 355
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.75 – The Cog Declares (2)
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Levi's intuition was exceptionally sharp—no exaggeration there.
…Of course, even calling it exceptional wasn't something to brag about.
Her life had been so relentlessly harsh that she'd naturally honed her survival instincts, and constantly reading others' moods had sharpened it even further.
'Even so, it's not as good as Master's.'
Still, she dared to take pride in it. If there was one area where her intuition surpassed that of her revered and beloved master, it was none other than…
'Sensing people's malice.'
While her master's animal-like instincts excelled at spotting suspicious or out-of-place individuals, Levi's were specialized in detecting malice.
Take today, for instance.
She hadn't planned to attend, but with her friends' urging and it being the final night of the banquet, even her adoptive father, Marchioness Jenimia, had come to the palace. It was an unavoidable current, and Levi had been dragged to the banquet. But the moment the marchioness stepped away, vultures descended upon her, and the girl instantly caught the malice radiating from them.
'Looks like my performance yesterday was a thorn in the nobles' sides.'
During the central street terror attack, Levi had put on quite the show, drawing unwanted attention, and things had escalated from there—
[Sword Prodigy Trained for Just One Year?! The Rise of a New Genius Full of Promise.]
[His Excellency Marquis Tristan's Choice Proven Right! Will She Be the Sword Princess to Succeed Duke Pelicia?!]
…Articles like that had been published, which was utterly mortifying for Levi.
The real heroics had all been her master's doing, yet they'd rushed to overhype the girl.
As if…
'It was a petty scheme to downplay even a fraction of Master's achievements. …So transparent and vile.'
It couldn't be anything but malice aimed at diminishing her master's feats.
Levi wasn't just intuitive; she was brilliant, piecing together the current undercurrents to approach the truth.
The nobles probably wanted to deny that her master had stopped the terror single-handedly.
Did they begrudge the birth of a hero, or did they simply hate the girl’s master…?
And to counter her master's dominance…
'They're using me.'
Crunch…!
Disgustingly so.
For Levi, it was an infuriating reality.
Her noble hatred was on the verge of leveling up to stage two, but more pressing than her loathing was the thick, ominous malice enveloping the palace.
'What the hell is it?'
She could sense the unidentified malice swirling around, but its true nature eluded her.
Of course. It was just malice—nothing more. Without concrete evidence or hints, not even the sharpest mind could unravel it all.
'If that Simon guy Master mentioned were here right now, he'd be a huge help.'
The genius her master had acknowledged as number one in quick thinking.
Wouldn't he have pieced together even more from this limited info?
"Wishing for someone who's not here is pointless, though… haa…."
"Bearcub, looking for someone? Tell Kunta. I'll find 'em."
"…Thanks, Sir Kunta. Your words alone are a big help."
"Kunta, not just words?"
"I know. But you suddenly leaving would be a bigger problem than my worries. You're here as an exchange student, so you're under special watch."
"Ku, Kunta no good at complicated stuff."
Kunta, who had been raiding the banquet hall's food, had sidled up to Levi at some point.
He seemed worried seeing her low spirits, and beyond that…
"Levi, cheer up."
"Yeah. Weirdos are everywhere."
"We'll tell the instructor later."
"Hey! Even if you hate them, that's going too far! It's not something people do!"
"I-Is it?"
"Imagine your family did something wrong and the instructor showed up. How would that feel?"
"……Just imagining it makes me suffocate."
"Exactly."
Her friends gathered around.
They'd transcended mere swordsmanship department classmates, bound now by the tight-knit ties of fellow disciples under one master.
They seemed to think her mood was down because of that noblewoman earlier, but she appreciated it anyway.
They were getting angry on her behalf.
So…
"Thanks."
Nothing was resolved, but Levi flashed a bright smile and nodded vigorously.
…
"…Something's off."
"My lord?"
"……."
Roan furrowed his brow deeply, unable to give Jack a clear answer.
They hadn't come of their own volition either.
As Lionel’s heir apparent, skipping the banquet entirely could stir trouble, so he'd shown up on the final night.
He'd spotted familiar faces— including a comrade from his first life— and considered it an unexpected stroke of luck. But one look at his comrade's expression had hardened Roan's own.
'Zhan's analytical skills were unparalleled. Especially her crisis detection— superior even to the Saintess.'
The tale that Joan the Dark, the battlefield saintess turned Mercenary King, had risen to commander through her immense martial prowess, mercenary tactics, and saintly arts—alongside analytical skills rivaling those— was taken as gospel.
She'd dismissed it back then with, "It's just intuition?"—utter nonsense. It was analysis.
Precisely, the instinctive reading of surrounding flows, processed by her brilliant mind.
She mistook it for intuition probably because she'd never learned proper analysis.
Which made it all the more impressive. She'd internalized an untrained skill as naturally as breathing.
No wonder even she thought it was just instinct.
…Thus, Roan paled.
Because he trusted his old comrade's abilities more than anyone's.
Something was brewing in this palace.
"Not a single quiet day…."
"Isn't that just how royals are? From plays and books, they never manage the kingdom—just fight among themselves all day."
"Where'd you even see that stuff, Jack?"
"Haha, nothing to do on days off, so watched with the guys."
"Just us guys?"
"Who else?"
"…Never mind. Nothing."
Roan resolved to one day play matchmaker for his subordinate with a proper lady.
Then.
"Oh my, if it isn't…."
Flinch!
"Hehe, young master Roan, isn't it? Doing well?"
"…Judia."
"Hmm, isn't that a bit too familiar? I'd prefer Lady Roengrin, hehe."
"…!"
He nearly cursed.
That brazen wench!!
'If the instructor hadn't warned me beforehand, I'd have drawn my sword on this wicked thing!'
Gazes converged.
All drawn to Judia, flaunting her bewitching beauty.
The woman who'd skyrocketed in status, now spotlighted as Roengrin's next head. With looks rivaling Crown Princess Isis and Irene Windler, the attention was only intensifying.
But to Roan, her appearance didn't register.
He trembled just recalling the ordeals she'd caused in his first life!
"…You hate me for no reason. I haven't done anything to you."
"Shut it. State your business."
His glare promised no mercy if she was just flaunting familiarity. Judia shrugged.
She had no desire to earn enmity from Lionel's promising heir unnecessarily, so she didn't nitpick.
Instead…
"Nothing major. You might not know, but in taking over Roengrin, I've uncovered various issues."
"Faster to find what's not a problem."
"No need to be so hostile. Anyway, what I'm saying is, I'd like your help, young master Roan."
"…What?"
"More bluntly: Roengrin is open to coming under you. Sure, plenty to cut away, but there are still some gems worth keeping. So please consider it carefully, hehe."
"……."
"Also, you seem to have some goal in mind. Wouldn't it be smart to have a great noble house as a subordinate for that? We could even solidify it through engagement with me…."
"Hard pass."
"…You're disgustingly ironclad."
Roan ignored her frown—it was an intriguing proposal, he couldn't deny.
'…Absorbing Roengrin. Tempting.'
Gaining a great noble house as a limb was quite the profit.
Even if crumbling, their power wasn't just wealth or force.
It stemmed from vast accumulated knowledge, mysteries, influence.
In that light, absorbing Roengrin was a solid option.
…The question was…
"But why come under me? You could ask the instructor."
"Knight Sir's poor, right? You're rich."
"…Not about money. With the instructor's connections, why me?"
"Well, Pierre—no, the current head—avoids Knight Sir. Says he feels insignificant around him…. Personal grudges making him act petty."
"…Idiot?"
"Always has been. Anyway, with that fool so insistent, no choice. We decided to ask you. Even if Knight Sir's close, you're on a different path."
"……."
"That's the reason, but personally, I'm all for not allying with Knight Sir."
"Scared of him?"
"N-Not denying that, but it's not just it. Truth is… I ended up seeing someone else's dream…."
Stroke.
"Heard you'd lost all Dream Demon powers. A lie?"
"Ah, don't! It really was accidental! You know—it's not completely gone. That's why it happened by chance, really—!"
"…Keep going."
He doubted trusting this villainess, but decided to hear her out. Maybe it'd explain why Zhan’s analysis had triggered.
And sure enough.
"Seems the dream I entered belonged to someone very 'high up.'"
She wore a cheeky grin, like reporting a sinking ship.
"And that high-up… really 'hates' Knight Sir…."
The next moment…
"—Great Sovereign of the Pendragon Royal House! May the dragon's blessing be upon you!!!"
[[May the blessing be upon you!!]]
Clunk—.
…With the king's entrance, Roan felt something fail to mesh, like gears grinding.
He thought it a misperception, but amplifying his unease…
Step, step!
—The 'knight' was walking straight toward the king.