Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: Adrian's Return
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Even after Adrian's response, Lucas remained composed.
"I've been neglecting you lately, brother."
"No need to think that way. You don't have to force yourself."
An unchanging smile lingered on Adrian's face.
At that moment, the butler's voice rang out once more.
"His Excellency Duke Georg Ascanien has arrived."
As he entered, Lucas and Adrian rose from their seats and paid their respects.
"You've arrived."
"Sit."
Georg's gaze, as he spoke those words, flicked toward Lucas's impassive expression—so different from a year ago—before quickly withdrawing.
Now, Georg turned to Adrian.
"How's your condition?"
"I'm much better than before I came. Being home puts my mind at ease, and I even forget about the pain."
"That's fortunate."
His words carried no emotion whatsoever.
Even though it had been over a year since the three of them had last gathered, Georg Ascanien's face betrayed nothing.
A fishy smile flitted across Lucas's face as he observed him.
The servant filled their glasses with aperitif, and Georg recited the prayer.
"We beseech You through the Lord to bless this food graciously given to us."
No trace of gratitude colored his flat, emotionless voice. Then, curtly, he added,
"Eat."
For a time, only the clink of forks against plates filled the air.
As they neared the end of the appetizers, Adrian spoke up.
"It's been quite a while since the three of us shared a meal like this. It really makes me feel like I'm home. How have you been faring, Your Excellency?"
"The usual."
No one present found the curt, rigid reply strange.
Georg Ascanien was not one to open his mouth easily.
Typically, he silenced others with a cold stare, and engaging in conversation like this was rare—almost a special privilege granted to Adrian Ascanien.
"I'm glad to hear it."
Adrian Ascanien responded with a perfectly practiced smile. He then began discussing Anhalt's political landscape with Georg.
Throughout the refined and gentle cadence of Adrian's speech, the servants finally began to feel a sense of comfort, as if the master of the house had truly returned.
Georg Ascanien excelled at commanding obedience from his subordinates, but he could not inspire true loyalty.
Adrian, however, was different. The servants understood all too well how he had earned such standing in the imperial court and across the empire—every time they encountered him.
By the time Adrian wrapped up his conversation with Georg, the suffocating tension of the dinner had softened considerably.
Now, Adrian turned to Lucas.
"It's nice to share a meal with my little brother after so long. I heard you took second place at the Bavarian Magic Potion Competition this time."
"Yes."
"I was surprised when you told me about your excellent grades at school, but this time too—it really caught me off guard. I'm truly pleased to see you achieving such consistent results."
"It's all thanks to your faith and support all this time, brother."
Lucas continued with a gentle smile.
"More importantly, what happened with your accident?"
The servants weren't showing it, but they were starting to feel flustered.
The man who had barely responded to questions last year was now looking straight at his brother and asking out of curiosity.
Adrian Ascanien, however, showed no surprise at the change. He simply gazed at his brother with the same warm look as always.
"It's not a pleasant story, but you should know. I was attacked by magic set up by Pleroma and lost consciousness. At first, I thought it wasn't serious, but the diagnosis was that I should receive treatment in the empire."
At the mention of Pleroma, the servants exchanged glances.
Trained in the Ascanien household, they quickly suppressed the instinctive reaction—but Adrian had already caught that fleeting moment.
As Adrian's face hardened slightly, Lucas offered an enigmatic smile.
"I'm fine, brother."
Anyone would be curious about a younger brother's reaction upon hearing, in front of a Pleroma member, that he'd been attacked by Pleroma.
Lucas glanced briefly at the soup placed before him, then looked back at Adrian and continued.
"You've been through so much, brother. I've heard Pleroma's movements have grown bolder lately, but to think even close family would suffer—it's shocking. I'll pray from the bottom of my heart for your swift recovery."
"......"
Adrian replied with a bright smile.
"Thank you."
The soup bowls were cleared, replaced by plates of bread.
In the meantime, the topics had shifted several times, though mostly it was political talk between Georg and Adrian.
As Adrian conversed with Georg, he turned to Lucas.
"Lucas, could you pass the butter over there?"
"......"
Lucas, who had just been sipping his wine, casually rang the table bell.
The atmosphere froze in an instant.
Even Georg stopped speaking and stared at Lucas, cutting their conversation short.
The servant snapped to attention and approached.
"Yes, sir?"
"Place it conveniently for my brother."
"Yes, young master."
At the natural command, the servant obeyed as if entranced, sensing nothing amiss.
Lucas smiled at the two men staring at him.
"I won't be using it anymore, so feel free, brother."
"......"
It wasn't strange at all.
With two glasses already in front of each person, reaching across the table would have been cumbersome.
He was a noble, after all, son of a ruling family with over a hundred servants—ordering others was what he should be accustomed to.
But Lucas Ascanien was not such a person.
Especially not when Adrian had specifically addressed him; he couldn't muster the flexibility for it.
All the servants here viewed Lucas as beneath Adrian, so they watched Adrian's reaction in dismay—but the man himself wore the same subtle smile as before.
Lucas was no different.
* * *
For the next three days, Adrian Ascanien did not summon Lucas to his room.
He only attempted casual conversations at mealtimes, smiling as he did.
Talk of school life, friends, and Pleroma—nothing particularly noteworthy.
Though every servant in the castle struggled to adapt to Lucas's changes, Adrian treated his utterly transformed brother as if it were last year, never once inquiring about the shift.
It was strangely ordinary and peaceful.
Then, on the fourth day, Adrian called for Lucas.
* * *
His brother had requested he come alone, so I entered the building without an escort.
The place I'd come to was a theater.
For a ruling family of a nation, building all sorts of facilities inside the house wasn't unusual.
It didn't suit the current master's tastes, so it was probably built by the previous duke.
"You're here."
Hearing my footsteps, Adrian Ascanien turned around from a seat midway back.
"Yes."
I replied indifferently.
His purpose was singular: to check if mana emanated from me or not.
To see if I had the power to one day surpass him and exact revenge.
'You took your sweet time dragging this out just to avoid showing agitation, even though you're only here to probe me.'
What needs hiding should be hidden.
The moment he came here solely to examine me, he'd already shown agitation.
After checking his status window, and hearing exactly what injury he'd sustained to come here, I was convinced once more.
He'd come here deliberately injured.
'So, after silently waiting a few days, I'm curious what this theater summons is about.'
Adrian Ascanien asked in a familiar tone, as if we'd been close brothers for eighteen years.
"Did we come here often when you were little? Do you remember?"
"No."
"Hmm, well. I was ten, and you were three."
I let out a light laugh.
He was fully aware of our huge age gap, yet it didn't bother him at all that he'd tried to send off his seven-years-younger brother socially and physically.
"Why did you call me here?"
"I feel like I haven't looked after you much since you entered the 2nd Imperial Academy. Truth is, you've spent most of your childhood cooped up in your room, so you haven't enjoyed much leisure."
Adrian smiled as he gazed at the empty stage.
"And I have a lot I want to ask you."
"......"
Yes, time to show his true colors.
I had my mana under such tight control—even the faint traces in the air—that there was no worry of detection, but just in case of bad luck, I sat one seat away from him.
Fortunately, Adrian didn't mind. He seemed to take it as typical behavior for someone my age.
Soon after, the theater troupe his brother had summoned took the stage.
The play was Macbeth.
I hadn't expected much, but since it was a troupe employed by a ruling family, it wasn't awful.
[Honor, love, friendship... all that's left for me is a curse.]
As I half-listened to the lines and pondered his scheme, the play reached its end. While I was just counting down the time, Adrian spoke, eyes fixed on the stage.
"No matter how many times I see it, it's enjoyable. The lesson that things shouldn't end up like that really hits home."
"I see."
It was just something to scoff at.
A lesson, my foot.
Since when could this bastard talk about lessons?
Our big age difference was unfortunate.
If we'd been just a year or two apart, we might have ignored each other or openly brawled.
His true nature would have shown easily, making it convenient to deal with.
He wouldn't have put on this nauseating good-brother act.
Then, Adrian spoke again.
"So, are you taking your medicine regularly?"
"......"
The topic that had never once come up finally surfaced.
We might head straight to the basement now.
I answered without emotion.
"Yes."
Propping his chin, Adrian smiled and continued.
"It doesn't seem to be working."
"......"
I stared at him silently.
The music and dialogue from the play faded from my awareness in an instant. With critical information to analyze, I couldn't afford to register such trivia.
"Who knows."
"It's fine to tell the truth, Lucas."
"There's nothing more to say truthfully. I've already said it as it is."
Let's think.
He had no reason to say the medicine "isn't working."
I knew better than even Leonor Elias how to conceal ambient mana.
If I didn't hide it, word would reach types like Trout—so I had to cultivate it beyond anyone's reach.
Then, Adrian Ascanien extended his hand with a smile.
"......"
He said nothing, but the intent was clear.
Prove it—prove the truth.
No matter how well you block ambient mana without aids, you can't fully suppress it in the pulsing skin.
Until now, he had no way to detect my mana directly, so there were only two paths to him saying "it doesn't seem to be working."
Either it was his bluff, or he'd gotten intel somewhere that I was using magic.
In that case, I needed to figure out which it was to decide my next move.
'What to do.'
No need for long deliberation.
I extended my hand toward him.