Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Poison's Signature
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Actually, at first, I was shocked when I saw Duke Christopher's condition.
Poisoned by poison?
What nonsense is that?
If a warrior from the Sichuan Tang Clan is surprised by mere poison, it'd be a lifelong joke.
The only thing that surprises a Tang Clan warrior is formless poison.
That's when you've encountered a phantom venom.
What startled me wasn't that Duke Christopher had been poisoned... but that the poison afflicting him was similar in nature to the one that had once afflicted me.
Sure, one might think all poisons are much the same, but have you ever heard this?
When identifying a murderer, people often discern the culprit's sect and traits from sword marks or blade scars.
The same principle applies to poison.
Poisons leave traces.
These traces range from visible marks identifiable by the eye to those requiring one to probe inward and sense the energy.
Varied and distinct.
In this case... my body reacted.
The toxic energy, melted away by the inner power of the Ten Thousand Poisons Heavenly King Divine Art, writhed as if greeting a long-lost friend upon sensing its kin.
So, I could be certain.
The fiend who poisoned Duke Christopher and me is the same culprit.
The Evil Society—they put the duke to sleep. And the one who scattered that poison is still nearby.
This isn't a poison that can simply be cured with an antidote.
Someone deeply versed in poisons must personally adjust the duke's body while administering the antidote simultaneously.
And this bastard...
He left his mark as if deliberately provoking, mocking those who couldn't recognize his handiwork.
You picked the wrong target. Because I'm here now. A creep with such twisted tastes is surely watching from somewhere.
Who are you? Where are you admiring your handiwork from?
As I sank into thought... perhaps unable to wait any longer,
Vericht asked in an impatient tone.
"Did you find something out?"
"Yes."
"Really...?!"
Vericht was so urgent that he grabbed my shoulders and shook me.
"Yes, this is..."
Bang!
Just as I was about to explain the poison, our heads snapped toward the flung-open door.
The man who entered had a mild, amiable face.
He quickly scanned us before asking Vericht,
"Lady Vericht?"
Vericht lit up with recognition upon seeing him.
"Ah, Administrator. You've come. What brings you here?"
"I heard you'd brought outsiders into His Grace's room, so I came to check. But... who are these people?"
Was it because he spotted strangers?
His gaze sharpened as he looked us over.
"Shall we step outside first?"
Discussing matters in front of the unconscious duke was improper.
Vericht led us and the administrator out of the room.
The moment they were outside, the administrator glanced at us and said to Vericht,
"Lady Vericht, who are these people that you brought them all the way to His Grace's presence? You know His Grace's condition mustn't be known to outsiders. At the very least, they should be trustworthy..."
"It's fine, Administrator. These aren't outsiders at all."
"...?"
Vericht glanced at Merina.
Understanding, Merina stepped forward.
"Administrator Joel, it's been a while."
Merina removed her red robe. Upon seeing her face, Administrator Joel paled.
Joel dropped to his knees right there.
"P-Princess...!"
Merina hurriedly pulled Joel to his feet, then spoke in a nonchalant tone.
"Even if I'm the princess visiting my uncle, Duke Christopher, does that still make me an outsider?"
"Of course not, Your Highness."
"Thank you for allowing it, Joel."
"Not at all, Your Highness. We were actually debating whether to contact you first."
Joel smiled.
On the surface, he exuded the warmth of a kind-hearted man.
"And this one is...?"
Joel's gaze shifted to me.
"The third son of House Pador, Deyan Pador."
"House Pador...?"
Joel's eyes narrowed momentarily.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Joel, administrator of this duchy."
"Yes."
I exchanged greetings with Joel while simultaneously sending a mental transmission to Vericht.
-Lady Vericht, for now, don't say anything to him. The princess and I are just visiting the sick. Let's get out of here first and talk among ourselves.
Vericht furrowed his brow briefly but soon smiled at Joel and indicated we'd be leaving.
"Deyan and Her Highness are traveling through the duchy... Don't you think Her Highness should know about His Grace's condition? That's why I called them. And Deyan hails from House Pador—he won't go blabbing carelessly."
Joel smoothly countered.
"Haha, well... Everyone knows House Pador keeps tight lips."
Vericht bowed his head to Joel.
"I'll arrange a proper meeting later. For now, since neither has even unpacked, I'll escort them to their lodgings."
"Very well."
Joel nodded, then looked at Merina once more.
"Your Highness, it must weigh heavily on you. To arrive on a trip and find His Grace like this... Ah! But don't worry. My subordinates and I will surely cure him."
At Joel's response, the princess nodded repeatedly.
"Yes, you must. You absolutely must."
Vericht stared at me as if rebuking, then explained Joel again.
"The administrator is the one Father and I trust most. He'll surely resolve this."
I get it—he looks like a nice guy.
But I don't know him.
One of my iron rules: 'Always dig into those who pretend to be nice guys.'
Scum hides their stench behind constant smiles.
It might not be the case, but call it a habit.
"Then, Administrator, we'll take our leave."
"Ah! Yes, please do."
Joel stepped aside, raising an eyebrow.
"When you tour the duchy, be sure to try the crabmeat baguette from the seaside stalls. It's commoner fare, but... the flavor is exquisite. Give it a shot."
Merina smiled back at his friendly uncle vibe.
"I definitely will."
Leaving Joel behind, we followed Vericht to his office.
Thud.
The moment the door closed, Merina and Vericht's gazes fixed on me.
In case someone might overhear,
I discreetly erected a barrier of qi.
"Joel is trustworthy."
"Joel is trustwort..."
Vericht spoke, and the princess echoed, but perhaps scarred by the bitter experience in Trial Valley?
They trailed off.
Real combat experience is key, after all.
"I apologize for my earlier rudeness. But this matter must be known to as few as possible."
"Hah, fine. Speak. What's wrong with my father?"
"Poison."
"Poison...?"
Merina accepted it readily, but Vericht frowned.
He still seemed distrustful of me.
"Really poison? Many have examined him. None said poison. How do you know?"
Is that even a question?
Good grief.
Me, who played with poison instead of food as a kid in the Tang Clan, being asked if it's poison.
Back when I was the Dark Venerable, my word was law.
Times like this really drive home how much a reputation matters.
No helping it.
I'm currently playacting as the powerless invalid of House Pador, so I have to explain.
"It's..."
"Deyan is a poison genius."
Huh?
Merina had compressed everything I was about to say into one punchy statement.
A poison genius?
"Trust him. He saved my life, and in the process..."
Merina smiled, recalling that memory.
Why the ecstatic expression, though?
"He used poison. An incredible one at that. Believe him, Vericht."
This actually makes things easier.
She wrapped up the complicated poisoning process and poison type in one sentence—what I'd have had to explain in detail.
Being from the Tang Clan has its perks for lying when needed.
"Hah... Alright. So it truly is poison."
With Princess Merina speaking so confidently, Vericht had no choice but to accept.
He clenched his fist hard—his hand gradually reddening.
"Who the hell poisoned Father... What did he do wrong?!"
Vericht squeezed his eyes shut, seething with rage.
"I need to assemble an investigation team right now and find out who did this."
Vericht moved to storm out.
Too hasty, too hasty.
Handling poison users that way won't even catch their tail.
Using poison means being meticulous.
Confident they won't be caught. Most poisoners are like that.
Ah, of course, the Tang Clan is the exception.
We do it openly.
I grabbed Vericht as he tried to leave.
"You can't."
Vericht shot back irritably.
"Can't? Why not?"
"Mobilizing people on that scale will alert the culprit that they're being hunted. They'll hide deeper, making the investigation even harder."
"So I should just sit by while Father suffers? Then at least treat him..."
"Treatment is even less advisable."
"What? Why?!"
If it's no, then it's no.
Hold it in. His father's life is on the line—it's natural for him to lose it.
I patiently, kindly answered Vericht.
"Treating him rashly now would make it harder to catch the culprit who poisoned him. As I said earlier, once treated, the culprit will know their deed is exposed and go into hiding. So we maintain the current state and catch them discreetly."
Vericht looked troubled.
"His Grace is in critical condition—how can you say not to treat him?"
"Don't worry. This poison only induces deep sleep; it won't endanger his life immediately."
"Ugh... Then who should handle the investigation...?"
"Leave it to me."
"To you?"
"Yes. A poisoner is best countered by another poisoner."
Simple logic.
Sickness to doctors, magic to mages.
Poison to poisoners.
"Lady Vericht, just tell the others in the duchy that the princess and I are mere travelers."
"Understood. I'll trust you."
With Vericht's agreement secured, time to investigate?
I'm getting quite intrigued.
The poison circulating in Duke Christopher's body.
No amateur work.
A poison even a Tang Clan elder would need to discern.
I wonder what this territory's poisoner is like.
In my first life, I'd never encountered one.
There were poison users, but they were mostly thugs who didn't even understand poison.
True poisoners are rare.
But this one is the real deal.
A kindred spirit met outside the martial world.
That fact excited me a bit.
Let's see that face.
Duchy of Christopher.
In that beautiful land of clear skies and emerald coastlines, there was a place that felt out of place.
Cracked pillars like ruined castle walls, overgrown with vines.
The dank floor, the underground chapel turned swamp-like—it seemed fit only for ghosts to haunt.
Into such a place stepped a being.
Zolan, herald of the Evil Society, entered giggling foolishly.
"Hmm, is this really cool? I'm not sure."
Zolan stroked his chin.
Before his eyes, was that human alive or dead?
No idea, but it was grotesque.
'This is art?'
Taste as unique as it gets.
Zolan's gaze lifted. A man's shadow draped over a stone throne above.
The man seated on the throne.
He replied to Zolan in a sharp tone.
"What do you know, Zolan?"
"Ahaha, sorry. I just don't get art."
"Figures. You look tacky at a glance. Enough chatter."
The shadow snapped his fingers.
"Why are you here?"
"Ah! First, I brought something personal for you."
Zolan clapped toward empty air. A messenger scroll flew before the throne's shadow.
The shadow unfolded and read it, then...
"Ian—that man's overly paranoid, suspecting my poison."
"He's always so thorough, isn't he?"
"Am I not?"
"Hahaha! Of course you are."
Zolan backpedaled while chuckling.
"No issue. No need even for a reply. If he thinks something's wrong, tell him to come himself. I'll let him experience firsthand that my poison is flawless."
"Hahaha, scary as ever. Anyway, to business. The duke's asleep, so the princess can't do much, but keep a close eye anyway. Don't let it end up like last time."
"Hmm, that girl sure gets around. She should've died in Trial Valley. Or should I just kill her here? Hmm, that could be fun. No, no—that'd anger him..."
The shadow casually insulted the empire's royalty.
If anyone heard, it'd be enough to hang him on the spot.
But Zolan didn't laugh this time.
Not a single word from the being before him—the shadow—was empty talk.
The Evil Society, which the shadow and Zolan belonged to, made it possible.
"But if that princess pokes around, she might figure out the duke's condition, right?"
"Figure it out? Who...?"
The shadow sneered.
Rumble...!
The entire space shook as if in an earthquake. Due to the shadow's immense aura.
Zolan yelped and hopped away playfully.
"Eek!!"
The shadow leaned forward.
"Hahaha! Let me ask one thing."
Now the man's eyes faintly visible. Eerie pale white eyes.
The pale white-eyed shadow grinned mischievously.
"Did you think you were poisoned?"
"Pardon? What do you mean? Why would I be pois—Huh?!"
Zolan's skin tone shifted. His pallid face bloated like a toad swelling up, body inflating like a balloon.
"You poisoned me?! When...?!"
"Exactly. Can dullards like you ever grasp the art of poison?"
Zolan's mouth swelled too, puffing out in indignation.
"Even if this is just an avatar, this is too mu..."
Pop!
Zolan burst before finishing.
The shadow, brimming with pride, reclined on the throne.
"Don't worry. No one understands the art of poison more deeply than I."
The shadow flashed a chilling smile.