Chapter 222
Chapter 222
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 222
Chapter Title: Shura Field (2)
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The banquet at the Tristan Ducal House lived up to its renowned reputation with food of truly exceptional quality.
Even in this modest drawing room, the dishes were top-class.
The tagliatelle, seasoned with just the right amount of salt for a perfect salty bite.
The long, flat noodles paired beautifully with the meat sauce. Spicy sausages peeled, crushed, and sautéed in olive oil, alongside roasted cherry tomatoes. The colors were vibrant, and the flavors were outstanding.
A dish with perfect harmony of tastes—
“Trying to escape like that?”
“...”
Such words flew my way as I stared down at my plate like I was analyzing its molecular structure.
They came from the ponytail woman sitting next to me, chin propped on her hand, smirking.
“Nice to meet you. Beatrix of the Kilgore Marquis House.”
“...Dawood of the Campbell Viscount House.”
I gave a slight nod as I replied.
Elnor’s close friend and the student council secretary.
Beatrix Elfin Kilgore.
I’d heard she was here for the ‘Harvest Festival’ at the Tristan Ducal House tomorrow.
Something like the territory’s biggest celebration. Apparently, it was an annual event around this time.
Since the Tristan Ducal House—pillars of the nation—treated this period with utmost importance, most prominent nobles made sure to show their faces.
‘...And this time, there’s a rumor the emperor himself is attending.’
As I recalled that info, Beatrix continued with her ever-present grin.
“First time meeting in person, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Beatrix flashed a bright smile as she said it.
“...If it weren’t for this situation, we could’ve had a proper chat.”
“...”
I followed the glance she whispered with, flicking her eyes aside.
But the liquid-nitrogen-level chill pouring from that direction showed no signs of thawing.
Across the wide table sat the last people I wanted to see right now.
Elnor. Eliya.
The sources of this ongoing icy atmosphere.
“Shouldn’t you stop them? It’s obviously your fault.”
Beatrix whispered teasingly, her cheek muscles twitching as she prodded.
I agreed with that point, at least.
The problem was.
“...One wrong word from me, and this’ll turn into a total shitshow.”
“Yeah, sounds about right.”
“...”
Honestly, observing the situation was the priority right now.
No matter what, this wasn’t the moment to intervene.
“...”
No.
Why were they like this?
I’d thought their relationship had thawed a bit lately, with no major clashes, but the air between them was frigid beyond belief.
[Didn’t you think too lightly of it?]
‘...Huh?’
[They only cooperated without complaints because you were stuck in the middle during all those incidents. Those two have never gotten along, not once.]
‘...’
[They can team up for a common goal, sure. But fighting over ‘control’ of you? Neither’s backing down.]
‘...’
Fair point.
They hadn’t fought only because various issues kept them busy—not because they’d warmed up. Eliya and Elnor had a long-standing feud dating back to the game’s main story. No way they’d get chummy easily.
[Besides.]
Kaliban chuckled darkly.
[If she thinks the duchess ‘stole’ the guy she likes. Even more so.]
With that, the silent Elnor finally spoke.
“So.”
She didn’t spare a glance at the glossy steak before her, her voice stiff as she dominated the mood.
“What brings you here?”
The tone was vicious—unimaginable from our private moments alone.
At her words, Eliya—who’d been expressionless, untouched food ignored, staring my way—lifted her head.
She locked eyes with Elnor for a moment, then smiled wordlessly.
“Just here for the Harvest Festival. Sightseeing?”
“...Spare me excuses even an idiot wouldn’t buy. It’s exhausting.”
Elnor shot back coldly.
“No precedent of a Kendrid Count House member showing up peacefully during festival season. You think that flies?”
“Oh? I’m a hero now, Student Council President.”
“...What?”
“Means petty political excuses don’t matter anymore. I’ll be wherever I want.”
“...”
Eliya’s relaxed reply narrowed Elnor’s brows toward the bridge of her nose.
Sure, she called it ‘petty politics,’ but the intent was clear: as a titled hero, she now had the clout to override even the Tristan Ducal House’s backing. A declaration she wouldn’t back down anymore.
“...Regarding the bet.”
Elnor’s voice was like frost spikes.
“The winner takes Dawood. Everyone agreed.”
“I never agreed to that bet in the first place?”
“...”
“Right? I didn’t even know it existed.”
Well... true.
Kaliban said it was relayed only to all the vessels of the devil except Eliya. She really wouldn’t have known.
“So.”
But.
Her next words clearly crossed that line.
“Stop acting like Teacher’s your responsibility. It’s annoying.”
Sparks flew from Elnor’s eyes.
“Want to fight?”
Her voice dripped menace.
But Eliya smirked right back.
“Yeah. I’m curious, actually.”
“What?”
“Back then, maybe not. But now I’m on your level. Enough to match you.”
“...You.”
“Don’t you wonder how far we can push each other, Duchess?”
“...”
“I’ll make a bet too.”
Eliya’s eyes gleamed ferociously next.
“If I win, I take Teacher from you completely. How’s that?”
Everything that followed happened in an instant.
Elnor grabbed her sword and shot to her feet; Eliya gripped her holy sword’s hilt in response; Beatrix lunged to restrain Elnor; the servants lining the walls panicked and started rising—
That’s when a madman wedged himself in.
Me, that is.
[ Crisis detected. ] [ Judged as direct threat to life. ] [ Skill: Desperate Situation applied at EX rank. ]
The moment those windows popped up.
I shot my hand high and climbed onto the table.
Desperate Situation or not, getting hit by both would kill me.
But I was certain neither would harm me.
Proof: the moment they saw me, Elnor and Eliya froze in bewilderment.
“...Don’t fight.”
Sweating bullets, I alternated glances between them.
“Please. Seriously. Don’t fight.”
“...Dawood, move.”
“Yeah, Teacher. Don’t get in the way—”
But they showed no signs of stopping.
They were dead set on settling this right now.
“No.”
So.
I squeezed my eyes shut and added one more line.
“I hate violent women.”
“...”
“...”
Elnor and Eliya’s faces blanked simultaneously.
Utter confusion at my words—but I doubled down shamelessly.
“If you fight, I’ll hate both of you.”
“...”
“...”
At that.
They glared murderously at each other but released their sword hilts.
The moment they sat back down demurely, Beatrix—who’d watched it all—looked utterly floored.
(...He calmed them with THAT?)
Her incredulous mutter echoed in my ear.
Telepathy via magic. Probably tuned to me only, excluding Elnor and Eliya.
Beatrix was from the Magic Faculty, right? Using such advanced tech effortlessly.
(...Just how much do they both like you...?)
“...”
(...Maybe you’re even crazier a playboy than the rumors say...?)
“...”
No badmouthing.
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Still.
Thanks to that line, things had at least reached a truce.
Elnor and Eliya still shot occasional glares, but no immediate brawl seemed imminent.
[At least that’s something.]
‘What?’
[If the duchess knew who took your first, she’d flip too.]
‘...You knew?’
[Guessed from your reaction. Eliya thought you were a virgin, but I’m always glued to you—nope. So someone squeezed you out behind my back. Only one fits: the one inside the duchess.]
‘...’
[Bingo from your face. Anyway, good it didn’t blow up over that now, right?]
Was that good?
It was, but it left a ticking bomb for the future I’d have to dodge.
[Better than exploding now?]
‘...Fair.’
I scanned the silent drawing room.
I’d averted a massive fight—great.
“...”
But the tension was suffocating.
The razor-thin ice between Elnor and Eliya prickled my skin.
They sipped post-meal tea without meeting eyes, but as the guy sandwiched between, I could feel them acting hyper-aware around me.
Lately attuned to such vibes, it choked me.
[Anyone can see they’ve only stopped fighting in front of you.]
“...”
[Without you? They’d be itching for a showdown.]
Agreed.
That’s why I felt like dying.
Sculpture-devoured Elnor and holy-sword Eliya were nearing power parity. A real fight could seriously injure one. They had big power-ups left, but their growth was already sky-high—collateral damage would be nuts.
‘...Can’t let them fight.’
No choice. Time to act.
First, get them talking somehow...!
“Hey, you there.”
I beckoned a quietly waiting attendant in the corner. He approached with poised steps, bowing to ask if I needed anything.
Flashing an awkward smile, I said,
“Sorry, but got anything simple for fun? Cards, board games?”
Not fitting the opulent room at all, but the attendant nodded without flinching, impressing me.
“The ones in the servants’ lounge okay? Some... rather risqué ones too.”
His hesitant tone widened my grin.
Risqué in the Tristan Ducal House? Probably just gambling cards or such.
“Yeah, anything. Thanks.”
He bowed and retreated gracefully. Beatrix shot me a baffled glare.
“Cards? Board games? Here?”
“Well, nothing else to do anyway, right?”
Better than stewing in suffocating closeness in this tiny room.
So.
“...Let’s all play.”
I invited the two mood-makers.
Please.
Save me.
“...Pass.”
“...Me too.”
Eliya and Elnor glared as they refused.
Obvious lack of interest in bonding.
“C’mon, don’t be like that.”
I desperately persuaded, squeezing out every ounce of eloquence—my most honeyed words ever—to seat them together.
‘...It’s working...!’
Reluctant but dragging chairs over, I inwardly cheered at the sight.
“He even talked them into that.”
Beatrix smirked from the sidelines.
(Heard about your rep indirectly from Elnor, but damn, not just any flirt. Your player skills are unreal?)
Her voice echoed in my ear again, not aloud.
Telepathy once more.
“...”
I sighed inwardly, glaring at her.
Why say that?
(Wow, just wow.)
Beatrix kept chuckling.
(No one else in the world could rein in the Tristan Duchess and a hero with one sentence. Be proud?)
“...”
Praise or insult?
Muttering internally, the four of us sat around the table.
Soon, the attendant placed a board game dead center.
Then.
Reading the cover text, a primal sense of doom hit me.
『 ♥ Grand Shura Field Lovey-Dovey Life Game ♥ 』
『 Who’ll end up with whom, and how? Steal your rival’s partner and make them yours completely! 』 『 The winning couple gets a magic stone ring generated on the spot for joint wear! 』
“...”
“...”
“...”
“...”
Probably.
Everyone at the table wondered how, out of all games, THIS got picked.
Sweating, I eyed the attendant. What the hell?
“...I did mention some might be risqué...”
His awkward excuse came out. Trembling, I asked,
“...Nothing else?”
“...This was it.”
“...”
With that.
Catastrophic silence crashed over the table.
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