Chapter 5
Linea watched the clock hands tirelessly tracing their endless path, signaling the approach of the banquet's start.
Whew, I'm so nervous.
The year since contracting with Kalion had been more than enough time for the timid, withdrawn girl to regain her confidence.
Linea had even come to brush off remarks like, "I'm the contractor of the Spirit King, after all," with poised nonchalance. So when Raidel suggested throwing a grand affair, she'd taken it in stride without a second thought.
But then.
Dad, you didn't mention these people were coming!
When the first wave of nobles close to Raidel arrived, Linea had been brimming with excitement.
Stepping into the splendid banquet hall in a beautiful dress, surrounded by piles of gifts, the orchestra's sweet melodies filling the air, and crowds showering her with congratulations.
Just imagining it makes me so happy!
It hadn't taken long for Linea, who felt like the heroine from last night's fairy tale, to realize something was off.
The empire's prime minister, Marquis Leonid Valtelion, arrived alongside Asuka, the Magic Tower Lord and a 7th-circle mage.
Even the Barenheim Grand Duchy, which rarely stirred from guarding the north, had sent their young lord Kyle and his retainers.
Huh? Them? For me? Why?
That alone was enough to muddle Linea's mind, but unfortunately for her, there were more guests still to come.
Learning that one of the current emperor's sisters had arrived from the imperial palace—and that people had even come from foreign kingdoms beyond the empire—Linea could only regret that enduring bitter medicine would have been preferable to this sweet torture.
If I'd known, I should've met everyone beforehand.
But it was too late now.
Linea let out a soft sigh and thought of Kalion.
Kalion will be here soon, right?
Strangely enough, just picturing him calmed the anxiety and fear churning in her heart.
It had only been a year since they'd met, yet Kalion occupied as vast a space in her mind as her father Raidel did.
I told him no gifts needed...
Linea meant it sincerely. Kalion hadn't required any grand incantations befitting a Spirit King, nor flashy magic circles. He'd even graciously accepted a contract powered solely by the necklace's mana.
That's why Linea didn't want to burden him with anything unnecessary.
But seeing him deliberate for days before deciding on a gift, and sharing her daily excitement over it, had touched her deeply.
"...I hope he comes back soon."
Murmuring to herself without realizing it as she thought of Kalion, Linea sensed a presence and turned around.
Standing behind her was Verian.
Her half-brother, who—as the adults put it—had finally "come of age" after several clashes since their first encounter a year ago with Kalion.
"What do you want?"
"Uh, Linea. Happy birthday. And... "
Verian hesitated, then spoke with an awkward expression.
"Could I borrow your necklace for a bit?"
"What? No way, absolutely not!"
"Yeah, figured as much."
As flustered Linea and sheepish Verian stood there, Bellona approached from afar.
Glancing coldly at Linea's neckline, Bellona raised her hand.
-Slap!
She struck Verian's right cheek.
Unlike the startled Linea, Verian rubbed his cheek as if he'd expected it and looked at Bellona.
"Was it that hard to fetch one little necklace?"
"Mother, I don't understand. Linea's already contracted with Lord Kalion—how do you plan to handle that?"
"That's for me to worry about. You just do as you're told, Verian. But if you're too scared, I'll handle it myself."
Giving Verian a pitiful look, Bellona reached toward Linea's neckline.
"No!"
Linea clutched the necklace and resisted with all her might, but when Bellona infused her hand with mana and yanked—
-Snap!
With a sharp sound, the necklace broke.
"Tch, if you'd just handed it over nicely. Well, maybe this is better. Now, Linea, time to head to the banquet hall."
Bellona dragged the stunned Linea by the hand toward the hall.
* * *
The Silbarein County banquet hall.
Splendid decorations adorned every corner, while the empire's finest orchestra played melodies perfectly suiting the mood.
It was exactly as she'd dreamed, but Linea couldn't enjoy a single thing.
I can't feel Lord Kalion's mana anymore.
The mana of Kalion she'd grown so accustomed to over the past year.
Without that gentle, protective embrace, it felt like she'd regressed to the time before meeting him.
Even if it's cut off now, I can just recontract with Kalion.
She repeated it to herself over and over, but her chest tightened more with each breath.
Nobles approached one after another, offering greetings laced with all sorts of words, but every conversation ended the same way.
"So, where's the Spirit King?"
As this repeated, those in the hall noticed Linea's darkening expression and sensed something was amiss.
"Was the contract a fake after all?"
"No. I can feel water mana surpassing even Nereis in the air. It's not that the contract was false, but perhaps incomplete somehow..."
"Maybe she contracted a particularly special Nereis individual."
With the last contractor centuries ago, wild speculation was inevitable.
Bellona smirked faintly at the sight, and just as Raidel, who'd caught on, stepped forward to calm things—
-Kiiieeeek!
A grotesque screech, as if rejecting the soul itself, tore through the air. Space ripped open behind Linea, forming a rift.
From it emerged some "existence" formed of water.
It was so pure and transparent that it almost seemed like nothing was there at first glance.
Father's aura is several times warmer than this.
The moment it appeared, a chill even Kyle, the young lord of the north, had never felt spread through the hall.
If this wasn't the Spirit King, what was?
Everyone wondered why it wasn't in human form, unlike the records—until it scanned the room, gazed at Linea, and spoke.
"Gasp! H-heok!"
That single phrase pressed upon the superhumans gathered from across the continent with an unprecedented weight.
* * *
Ha, would you look at this?
Arriving at the banquet hall in quite the dramatic fashion let me immediately spot why the contract had snapped.
The necklace Linea always wore was gone.
The culprit's obvious.
Bellona. The biggest thorn in Linea's side before I contracted with her.
I knew she hated Linea.
But over the past year since my contract with Linea, Bellona hadn't laid a finger on her.
Probably too scared of incurring the Spirit King's wrath—especially with her past sins weighing her down. Playing it safe made sense.
So why pull this stunt now?
It didn't add up logically. In a situation begging for repentance, she steps forward instead?
Was she waiting for me to be away from Linea?
That tracks. Before the birthday prep kept Linea busy, I was practically glued to her side.
But isn't this too late?
Linea was set to form a proper contract with me in a few weeks at latest.
With her sky-high affinity and mana talent.
If Bellona couldn't block the contract in the next few weeks, this move was suicidal.
Thinking about what could block it sent chills down my spine.
Linea's death.
As Silbarein County's lady and daughter of Duke Theresia, killing a now-uncontracted Linea wouldn't be hard for Bellona.
Linea was just an eyesore ignored by Raidel before—but the moment she contracted with me, she became an existential threat that had to be eliminated.
[Haha.]
My rage peaked, and laughter bubbled up.
Hovering before Bellona at the head table, I saw her face twisted in more agony than anyone else's.
[Bellona. I set aside your sins and bestowed grace upon your father, yet you cross the line again.]
No blood on Linea's birthday, but pain just as exquisite? Absolutely.
-Sizzle! "Kyaaak!"
Aim my finger at her forehead to brand her, and she convulsed with a scream.
A 5th-circle fire mage she might be, but she'll never cast again.
Similar to mages whose circles shatter from mana overload—but different.
Her heart still holds five rings, but any attempt to cast triggers the forehead brand.
It blocks the spell and delivers excruciating pain. Plus, periodic agony even without trying.
Cruel? Maybe.
But touching Linea numbs me to it.
[One more thing.]
Gazing down at the collapsed Bellona, I continued.
[I'll revoke the grace I gave your father. House Theresia will open its granaries for three years.]
Some noble over there clutched their neck and toppled. Judging by the hair and face, that must be Duke Arman Theresia.
Should've raised your daughter better.
Gently scooping up the fallen Linea, I withdrew the mana permeating the hall.
Only then did the guests' faces ease, and I issued my warning.
[You lot, remember your places.]
A high noble's birthday is naturally a microcosm of politics—but Linea's should be different.
No need for her to mind these people.
[Now, let's resume the banquet.]
I pulled out the brooch I'd prepared for Linea.
Wait, I was gripping it when I moved...
It was shattered to pieces.
...What now?