Chapter 114
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Banquet (4)
A banquet was held.
Countless people flocked to Meursault Castle.
Modificata, Daytona, Portofino.
The atmosphere was quite lively with the three great Northern families gathered in one place.
It was probably thanks to the secret agreements they'd made before entering Meursault Castle.
…However.
"What are you staring at?"
"I've never seen you before."
Not everyone was getting along.
The childish war of nerves was, as expected, between the Modificata and Daytona families.
Trouble broke out where the descendants of these two long-time rival houses—the young people in their twenties—were located.
A tall, skinny young man with sharp features was glaring at another young man who was short but had broad shoulders.
Ditun Modificata, the eldest son of the Modificata family.
Aikona Daytona, the second son of the Daytona family.
The two were the same age.
Peers from neighboring enemy houses.
In other words, they had a very long-standing grudge.
They were equals in everything, with nothing to distinguish one from the other.
They had even graduated from the same academy.
Naturally, they had been constantly compared and competing since their school days, so there was no way they could get along.
Ditun said irritably.
"Hmph, to think I had to see your disgusting face all the way out here."
"You're still as stupid as ever, Ditun. We're only face-to-face because of an occasion like this. Otherwise, why would I bother looking at a face like a mangy horse's?"
"Shut your mouth, Aikona. Unless you want my gauntlet across your cheek."
"Try it. You think you can beat me? After being under me your whole school life, it's about time you knew your place."
"You mad bastard. You still think you're a student?"
"What I'm saying is, a guy who's been under me from childhood through school has no business suddenly climbing over me just because he's aged a bit. Without any special trigger, that is."
Aikona from the Daytona family sneered at Ditun from the Modificata family.
From childhood through school, Ditun had always been just a hair behind Aikona.
If Aikona had sensed mana in the spring of age fifteen, Ditun had sensed it in the winter of fifteen; if Aikona placed seventh in the academy entrance exam, Ditun placed eighth, and so on.
That was why Ditun especially bared his teeth at Aikona.
"Aikona, you little shit... you really want to die?"
"Who in this world wants to die? Ah, but a guy who's spent his life under someone else might think differently. I'm not like you, so I don't want to die."
"Heh, you dwarf shit-sack, all talk and no—"
"What did you say?"
Aikona's brow furrowed.
As old rivals, Ditun knew exactly how to get under Aikona's skin.
Ditun sneered.
"Getting mad just because I mentioned height?"
"...You've really never grown up since we were kids. My height measured from the ground might be short, but measured from the sky, it's tall."
"Then measure from the sky during the academy physical exam too. Why measure from the ground then? That's why you're a full head shorter than most women. Next time, measure from the sky or something."
"Better than a lanky beanpole like you who's all height and no substance."
"So you admit my height is impressive?"
"Shut up already, Ditun. Stop clinging. I don't want to be seen as the same level as you. Let's just go our separate ways, please."
"Same level? We're not the same level. I'm the eldest son, you're the second. What we inherit is different—that's what I'm saying."
"Fine, I get it. So don't talk to me and get lost. Let's pretend we just met today."
"You idiot. You've always been great at reading the room since the old days. Such a phony bastard."
Their verbal sparring dragged on.
Right then.
"Long time no see, seniors—"
A beautiful woman with golden blonde hair and blue eyes appeared.
Beatrice Portofino.
She was the only daughter of the Portofino family, one year younger than Ditun and Aikona.
And a junior from the first class after them at the Northern Academy.
Ditun snapped irritably.
"The Golden Fox of Portofino, huh. What do you want?"
"What do you mean, what do I want? Just a junior greeting her seniors."
Beatrice smiled brightly.
Her smile made it seem like the banquet hall brightened for a moment.
But Ditun and Aikona knew better.
The Beatrice before them was a terrifying woman, despite her innocent looks.
Behind her pure and delicate impression lurked at least a hundred Northern frost vipers.
Her martial talent was abysmal, but her gifts in administration, strategy, military science, and the like were said to be the best at the Northern Academy.
And she wielded her specialties through cunning methods.
Being enemies with Beatrice was a real headache.
In fact, Ditun and Aikona knew well what had happened to the pathetic men who had approached her, smitten by her beauty.
Aikona asked.
"Beatrice. You're famous for having no interest in banquets, but you're here today?"
"Oh my, why wouldn't I be interested in banquets? I'm more interested than anyone."
"Correction. It's not banquets—you have no interest in men."
"I have plenty of interest in men too. That's why I end up skipping banquets."
Ditun tilted his head at Beatrice's response.
"If you're so interested in banquets and men, why not come? Where else would you meet men if not at a banquet? Don't tell me back-alley clubs...?"
"What nonsense is that? Because I'm interested in banquets and men, I gather all the rumors, scrutinize them, and only go if there's real value."
"What? So you're saying tonight's banquet has value? Who'd you come to see? Don't tell me me?"
"Think whatever you like~"
Beatrice smiled with her eyes and covered her mouth with a fan.
Right then.
"The young heirs of Meursault House are entering!"
Servants shouted from that side.
In an instant.
"...!"
"...!"
"...!"
The gazes of Ditun Modificata, Aikona Daytona, and Beatrice Portofino snapped to one side.
Footsteps echoed from the corridor at the far end of the banquet hall center.
Thud— thud— thud— thud—
Soon, the door opened, and a pair of man and woman stepped onto the red carpet.
Silver hair shining like the snowy plains.
Crimson eyes sparkling like blood.
Federback and Cardina walked into the banquet hall.
The moment they appeared, the entire room fell silent.
What had silenced the crowd? Their status? Ability? Aura?
The moment they saw Federback and Cardina, the gazes of Ditun, Aikona, and Beatrice in the corner of the banquet hall changed.
Ditun and Aikona let out small groans as they looked at Cardina.
"Ngh— Cardina is..."
"As beautiful as a goddess as ever."
Meanwhile, Beatrice...
"Jackpot. A guy like that actually exists in real life? My life's been a total waste until now."
She was drooling at the sight of Federback.
Meanwhile, Federback was observing Cardina beside him.
'The maids put in some real effort.'
Her outfit to her makeup—everything was perfect.
Her silver hair cascading to her waist shimmered beautifully like a collapsing galaxy.
The eyepatch over her right eye was a trace.
A secret, a wound, something life had taken from her.
Yet that emptiness was far from hollow.
It was a blank space that stimulated countless imaginations, a tragedy too hard to reveal or speak of, now established as value.
Truly beautiful trees are those with scars from healed wounds, right? More than flowers delicately grown in a greenhouse, those bearing the marks of the wild deserve greater respect.
"Is there something on my face?"
Cardina's left eye turned toward Federback.
Her left pupil was ruby-red and firm.
It was a flame that burned without melting, tearing through the observer's wariness, searing the center of the heart, and leaving a poignant mark of fiery petals.
'Sister's appearance is objectively stunning. If there's any flaw, it's the right eye.'
But Federback was convinced that Cardina's missing eye would actually be an advantage in the marriage market.
The North's aesthetic standards differed slightly from the Center's.
Mere prettiness was secondary; true beauty shone only when backed by martial prowess.
That was the North's standard of beauty.
The scars on Cardina's body, the loss of one eye, were not just additional beauty but amplified her inherent allure.
It was akin to the savage charm of a hook replacing one hand or a metal peg for a leg.
Northern men loved women like that.
And above all.
'...The story of how Sister lost her eye is famous. Practically no one in the North doesn't know it.'
During Cardina's time at the Northern Academy.
There had been a major incident at the school.
A high-rank magic beast had escaped the lab and assaulted the academy cadets, causing numerous casualties.
Cardina, then a second-year cadet, had held it off alone, buying time for fifty seniors and juniors to evacuate and report the situation.
Her desperate battle that day had lasted over an hour, heedless of her life.
What the hastily arriving professors and upperclassmen saw was the beast dead with a blade in its heart and Cardina standing tall, having lost one eye.
From that day, Cardina became the goddess of the Northern Academy.
Her heroic deed spread beyond the school paper throughout the North by word of mouth, etching itself indelibly in the memories of alumni across five or more classes above and below.
It was no wonder her school nickname was 'Goddess of War.'
Consider whom Northern warriors prayed to when staking their lives in battle, or whose side they longed to be on when dying—that was the highest praise and reverence one woman could receive.
Even alumni decades after graduation called Cardina's lost right eye the 'Eye of the Goddess.'
So who in this banquet hall would nitpick Cardina's missing eye when judging her beauty?
No such man existed in the North.
'To men from the Northern Academy, Sister is a worshipped goddess. If such a goddess seeks a fiancé, men will line up.'
Federback's prediction hit the mark precisely.
The silent crowd began to stir at Cardina's entrance.
Soon, movement came from three directions.
Thud— thud— thud— thud—
Modificata, Daytona, Portofino.
They were approaching this way.