Chapter 141
Chapter 141
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 141
Chapter Title: Escort
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A ball? You think you can just waltz in whenever you feel like it?
Naturally, you'd have to tilt your head at that.
Even meeting up with friends at year's end requires scheduling two months in advance. How could anyone crash a royal celebratory ball on a whim? If that were possible, this wouldn't be an RPG—it'd be a fighting game.
Which means, upon careful reflection, Count Glass must have been scheming from the start to drag both me and Aila to this ball.
Well. He's Aila's fiancé, after all.
From the count's perspective, it was probably something like, "Good job, rebel duo. Go wreck the whole atmosphere at the ball."
Anyway, when we struck that deal with the Trista family, considering my own position, becoming their propaganda mascot to this extent isn't a big deal.
No, the real issue is my stamina.
You think this medieval getup is easy to change into, even with a servant's help?
Hey, rookie. Don't underestimate Stamina 2.
Mark my words: five outfit changes, and you'll collapse from exhaustion.
It's so unfair and pitiful. Before coming to this world, I was a decent neighborhood guy who could bench 250 kilos for three sets. Sure, my herniated disc wrecked me, but even that level of stamina would make this less humiliating. Yi Young-jin, how did you end up with Stamina 2?
That's why my response was firm.
"Count Glass. I'm going in my Jefrin uniform."
"...But, Your Highness."
"Jefrin's uniform is, without a doubt, the finest attire."
"Others might look down on it."
"Count Glass. Let me ask you one thing."
"Speak."
"Is there anyone left in this empire bold enough to look down on Trista and Loengrin?"
"......As Your Highness wishes."
Hm.
That's more like it.
Students are supposed to wear their uniforms to formal events, after all.
Of course, that alone made me uneasy, so I sent someone to fetch Patrascheche from Jefrin.
"What's this, master? You said the regular flights don't run during summer break."
"Something came up. You didn't think I'd just laze around, did you?"
"Ha... You're making me, a proud wolf fairy, work overtime?"
"A wolf that settles for scraps and is content with the status quo is just a dog."
"......"
"Patrascheche means 'proud guardian' and 'trusted companion' to you."
"...The truth."
Patrascheche scanned me with mana, detecting no falsehood in my words, and let out a deep sigh upon realizing it.
"Turn back into a wolf, Patrascheche."
"...Hah. Using that hellspawned mouth on me too?"
"Hmph. What I need is a strong companion who hides their fangs. I have no use for a dog content with scraps and the situation at hand."
"......Fine. I'll do it. Behold the form of a proud wolf."
With that, Patrascheche began spreading red mana around her.
Not the mutt that usually pulled the rear cart, but the great wolf that had swept battlefields alongside the first emperor.
"Someone might try to take my life. Act on your own judgment if you sense danger."
"Understood. On the meaningful name you gave me."
Alright then.
We died together frozen anyway—might as well stick together for life.
"Let's go, Wolfram. Hehe."
"Mm."
Unlike me in my uniform, Aila was dressed in a deep purple gown.
Off-the-shoulder... whatever it's called. Evening dress, right?
With light makeup and a necklace to top it off.
If what she wore to Jefrin's social was casual, this was the real deal.
So this is Aila Trista fully coordinated.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just... I've never seen you like this, so I was a bit thrown off. Bear with me."
"Hehe. Of course. This getup is unfamiliar to me too, but Father insisted I at least wear a dress."
"I see."
Truth be told.
I was a little startled by Aila's unfamiliar look at first, but the necklace around her neck was unmistakably one wing of a black fallen angel, no matter how I looked at it. 'Dressed up or not, Aila's still Aila.' Lucky.
"Wolfram? What's up?"
"No... Now that we're about to head out, I just wondered if we're really prepared."
I realized it just before boarding the carriage.
This event was the real deal.
A glimpse of life outside Jefrin.
In other words, my first step beyond the academy, where Yi Young-jin's info doesn't exist.
Even though I'd resolved to live as Wolfram von Loengrin, my body wouldn't move easily.
That's when it happened.
A hand extended casually.
The soft, slender warmth grasping mine.
"It's okay. You've got me, right?"
"......Right."
There was her unwavering smile.
"Besides, it's not like we're at a disadvantage from the start. Tonight's our stage."
"Fair point."
Feeling a strange sense of relief, I took Aila's hand and boarded the carriage.
Eve von Loengrin clutched her throbbing head.
She still had mountains of books to read, so did she really have to deal with this pointless, annoying ceremony?
Yet it was awkward to skip it.
For a royal to claim the throne, support bases were essential, obviously.
Someone had the dwarves' backing; another had the elves' forest—that is, the traditional elves.
Mana Power 22 was more than enough to smash everything and declare, "I'll stand in the heavens."
But the path to emperor that Eve had chosen for herself was that of a sovereign, not a tyrant.
And there was another problem.
Even if she conquered the world with her own mana and ascended to the heavens, Eve's life would still be in danger.
Pure mages excelled at wide-area spells but could fall to an assassin's unexpected strike.
In short, she had to maneuver politically and compromise to some extent.
And the Ciela family was one that wavered between friendly and neutral toward Eve von Loengrin.
She knew their eldest daughter unilaterally avoided her, but they had achievements and ability.
Right now, she owed them a debt.
When Regina Cielra had usurped the student council president position from Wolfram, they'd provided some help, so Eve had to attend the ball they hosted to ease the Ciela family's unease.
"No time for this..."
Frankly, she hadn't even found a clue to the opportunity that would let her claim her great ancestor's arrangement.
She firmly believed she could do what Wolfram had, but with summer break ending and a return to Jefrin looming, every day was bloodcurdlingly tense.
Still, she had to do it. Shattering goodwill once took far too long to rebuild.
At the call, Eve stepped forward on her own.
No escort needed. No man fit to walk the sovereign's path with her existed yet.
In fact, some half-baked guy escorting her would spark political issues.
So she walked the red carpet alone to the throne prepared for her.
The top seats were two, prepared for escorts, but no one sat beside her.
A pure white gown embroidered with gold thread. At her waist, the staff bearing the first emperor's arrangement. Hair tied up high, eyes gleaming blue. Unhesitating steps.
Eve von Loengrin sat gracefully, straightened her back, and nodded.
No one met her gaze.
Even the Ciela lady who subtly treated her as a rival merely bowed her head in this situation.
The pressure from Mana Power 22 and the weight of the Loengrin bloodline prevented even her elder siblings—rivals for the throne—from treating her as just a student.
Before learning friendship, family love, cooperation, or romance, she had awakened to purpose and ambition. A ruthlessly lonely path.
No one in this world could stand at her eye level.
She had grown accustomed to that loneliness.
She should have been accustomed to it.
"Hoo."
Why, then, the sigh?
This was shaping up to be an excruciatingly boring banquet.
As she pondered whom to meet first to at least help her nominal ally Ciela—worthless thoughts, really—the hall grew strangely quiet.
She understood no one daring to make noise during the Loengrin introduction, but even the announcer falling silent was odd.
Eve noticed the anomaly, opened her eyes, and looked at the announcer, who stared at the ballroom entrance in disbelief.
Eve's gaze followed, and the moment she witnessed the truth, the hall's silence shattered.
"...Eh?"
Eve felt the most intense emotional shift of the night.
You? Why? Do you even know where this is? Are you insane?
He approached her, hand in hand with his fiancée, stepping onto the red carpet she'd walked.
Everyone prostrated, but Eve von Loengrin could tell.
This was a banquet hosted by her ally, Eve von Loengrin.
And the very person she'd usurped shows up?
Impossible without madness.
And what was with that outfit?
Why a uniform?
Wasn't he declaring with his whole body that the banquet was invalid and he hadn't been usurped?
Shock and suspicion overflowed, infused with mana.
And all those emotions stabbed at Wolfram. His mana was 3.
No way that meager stat could handle the pressure.
Yet he didn't waver.
Without stopping or faltering, he advanced toward her.
When he reached right below the throne, the pair halted.
Only Wolfram alone ascended the steps to the empty seat beside her.
And he casually sat down.
Legs crossed, back slouched deeply, fingers interlaced, that familiar sly smile.
He glanced at Eve beside him.
And mouthed the words.
'What're you staring at.'
Then flicked his middle finger ever so slightly.
Eve von Loengrin alone knew what that meant.
She thought she'd grown used to this man's crazy antics, but this was beyond expectation.
A gathering full of enemies, save two.
Yet only he met her gaze as an equal.
"You're insane. What do you plan to do, ruining this event? Is this part of your scheme? You know this is the Ciela family's ball, right?"
"......You expect me to believe that?"
"You—"
At those words, the hall's tension dissolved.
He really was just here as Aila Trista's partner.
Wolfram sat, glanced at Eve, and murmured softly enough for only her to hear.
"...You're truly mad."
"......Show your face later. Separately."
"...I'll really kill you later."
Her blood pressure spiked at his shameless words.
She wanted to flip two middle fingers and spear his gut with holy spears right then.
What plan was this? She couldn't fathom his schemes.
Yet.
Strangely enough.
Eye level.
Because of this one brazen man meeting her gaze.
The boredom and solitude gnawing at Eve von Loengrin had vanished like they'd been washed away.