The Perfect Plan
Sunlight streamed through the window, warming the skin with its gentle morning glow. Julia slowly felt her mind clearing as she stretched. "Haaah...! Huh!?"
Whoosh. Startled by the foreign sensation in her mouth, Julia whipped her head to the side. Aslan quickly withdrew his hand, averting his gaze. The thing that had entered her mouth was none other than Aslan's finger.
This guy! "What do you think you're doing...!"
"You're awake. Quite the temper first thing in the morning."
"Ugh! You're treating people like toys!"
Despite Julia's irritation, Aslan paid her no mind and continued his work in silence. Come to think of it, he'd been like this since last night. Julia slid off the sofa and circled around behind Aslan. His broad back completely blocked her view of the desk.
After struggling on tiptoes for a while, Julia finally managed to peek over by pressing herself against his side. "What are you doing right now...? Yo?"
"This is a financial statement. It's a detailed record of all the taxes collected by the Belmont family, the businesses they run, and every other economic activity. Normally, these should be prepared every month, but... over ten years' worth have piled up. Now it's hard to even tell how much debt there is or how much money is owed. I'm going through everything and organizing it."
"Hmm. So it takes this long because you're doing ten years at once. It's like how skipping homework makes things harder later."
"Exactly."
"Kyaa!?"
Grab. Aslan seized Julia by the waist and lifted her up. Her body floated into the air before settling onto his lap. "What are you doing without even saying anything...!"
"Weren't you trying to see what I was doing? I just made it easier for you to look."
"That's not it! You're treating me like a child again!"
"If it's a child, of course I'd treat them like one. Why would I treat them like a lady?"
"...!"
I am a lady, you know! Sitting on Aslan's lap with no room to move, Julia puffed out her cheeks, radiating clear signs of anger. Even so, Aslan remained unmoved.
"This might be something you'll have to do someday. Watch carefully."
"Isn't this the kind of work a secretary does...? Yo?"
"Sylvia is a knight, yet she handles these tasks as well."
"Sylvia was a knight? Not a secretary!?"
Julia's eyes widened in shock. So that person was officially a knight. Aslan had just been making her do whatever he wanted. If even a knight was being worked this hard, how much more work would a secretary have to do? Yeah. She absolutely could not become Aslan's secretary. Julia quietly made that resolution in her heart.
"I'm never going to be a secretary or anything like that. How many years would it take to save a billion larks on a measly salary...? Yo."
"Then what?"
"I'm going to make a name for myself as a spirit mage. They say I'm already famous in the Ariente territory thanks to Muddy. I'll become famous nationwide, take on tons of jobs, and rake in the money... Yo!"
"That's a good mindset."
The Evil God, 'Kali', smiles contentedly.
Yes. That was the spirit. Aslan felt satisfied as he caught the scent of Julia's nape while she declared her resolve with clenched fists. The dull secretary work could be dumped on Sylvia. The flashy, high-paying jobs could be pushed onto Charlotte and Julia.
"I want to get down now... Okay?"
Rustle. Julia's hands patted over her clothes, and she flinched. A dizzying sensation, as if she'd forgotten something important. 'Ah! The rosary!' Only then did Julia remember the item she'd borrowed from Sylvia. She frantically felt around her chest. But it wasn't there. Nowhere to be found. She was sure she'd gone to sleep wearing it. That meant... it had come off while she was sleeping!?
"You!? Don't tell me you took off my clothes while I was asleep...!"
"..."
Julia's face flushed bright red as she shrank her shoulders. Aslan squeezed his eyes shut. Her imagination was far too vivid—it was exhausting.
'Is that woman really a Belmont?'
'Why. You don't think so?'
'No. No matter how I look at it, I can't believe we're of the same blood.'
'Then it would be best to eliminate her? Speak, Aslan. What do you think?'
'I...'
Flash!
Gasping for breath, Irene tumbled off the bed. Cold sweat drenched her entire body, and her hands and feet trembled. She'd had a terrible nightmare.
"This goddamn..."
Running a hand through her disheveled hair, Irene spat out a curse. Ever since she'd glimpsed Aslan's bewildered face through the door gap—when he'd asked if that woman was truly a Belmont—she'd started cursing consciously, and now the habit had stuck to her tongue.
Irene had to struggle just to calm her ragged breathing with a dry wash of her face. A memory she could never forget no matter how hard she tried. That day that had completely upended her life. The more she recalled it, the more her hatred for Count Belmont and Aslan surged.
Ah. Now Aslan was Count Belmont.
"Ha. Hahaha...!"
So in the end, she couldn't stop it. She'd tried every trick in the book to prevent Aslan from becoming the head of the family. She'd fought so desperately. Yet she failed to stop him, and he had instantly succeeded the count's title. The match had ended so futilely.
She'd been tense upon hearing that the good-for-nothing scoundrel Aslan had changed, but she'd thought there was still plenty of time. She'd believed she could drag things out at least until the council of elders. Who would have imagined he'd invite the Emperor under the pretext of a road completion ceremony, capture her attention, and become count just like that? This move far exceeded Irene's expectations.
'My guess was wrong. A new evil god's appearance? That's impossible.'
At first, she'd suspected he'd made a contract with a new evil god, but winning the Emperor's favor with an evil god's help was impossible. The Emperor's eyes could see straight into a person's heart. If she'd detected the aura of an evil god, there'd be no avoiding the Emperor's disgust. Which meant all of this was purely Aslan's own doing.
How had the foolish, gloomy scoundrel Aslan transformed so completely overnight? Irene's answer was simple. Aslan had regained the sharp wit he'd shown in his childhood. There was no other way to see it.
'Wasn't he supposed to be an idiot, a cripple, a wreck...?'
After Count Belmont's death, Aslan had shut himself in the study. He'd lost not only the talent he'd displayed as a child but also all his confidence, leaving behind only a twisted personality as he obsessed over the hollow illusion of black magic. That Aslan had come to his senses. Did that mean he'd regained all his former talent as well?
Shiver! Irene felt a chill run down her spine and shuddered violently.
'I have to stop him. I must stop him no matter what.'
If that demonic talent had manifested again, it wouldn't be long before Aslan completed his father's black magic. It was a future where the evil god's true form—not its avatar—would throw the world into chaos, where the dead would roam the streets, and where the boundaries between life and death, this world and hell, would blur into an apocalypse.
To prevent that future...
"I have to drag him down. No matter what."
She had to drag Aslan down from the position of Count Belmont. As a first step, what should she do? It was daunting. She couldn't see a way forward. Irene's influence within the Belmont family had now dwindled to almost nothing. There were practically no matters she could decide on. The elders had all long since turned their backs on her to congratulate the newly succeeded count. It meant she could receive help from no one, and that she alone had to accomplish this.
"Fine. I'll fight dirty and petty, just like a weakling."
Yeah. She'd admit it. Aslan was still the same bastard who trembled in fear just looking at her face. But she'd admit that their positions had reversed. So brace yourself. From now on, she'd avoid direct confrontation. She'd only attack with the things he found most troublesome and frightening.
Where to begin? Hmm... Yes. This was it. A brilliant plan came to mind, and Irene's lips curled into a smirk.
"Those children you cherish like gold and jewels... Charlotte and Julia, was it? Those adorable little things..."
Aslan's two slave girls, Charlotte and Julia. On the surface, it seemed like he treated them casually, but anyone with a shred of perception could tell. Aslan cherished those two deeply. What would make Aslan despair the most? What would make him most afraid? The answer was simple.
"I'll spread the rumor that Aslan is raising those children to devour them later!"
She'd spread baseless nonsense to drag Aslan's reputation into an abyss with no bottom. If the world learned he was raising young commoner slaves with the intention of taking them as wives later, Aslan would be too ashamed to even lift his head. The more he struggled to refute it, the worse the situation would become. People craved entertainment, not truth.
Once his honor was sullied, bringing him down would become easy. "Ahahahaha...!" Yes. This was it. Irene burst into uncontrollable laughter. No matter how she thought about it, it was the perfect plan.