The Banquet (1)
"What did you just say? A hundred and fifty million rené?!"
My little sister Yerna's room.
She'd grabbed me by the arm out of nowhere and dragged me in, and I'd told her everything that had happened with the family head, blow by blow.
"And within a week?!"
Yeah. Good reaction.
I was thinking pretty much the same thing.
A hundred and fifty million rené wasn't the kind of money that just fell out of the sky. With the mana stone mine still nowhere near full production, Seorigol's income couldn't scrape that together in a hundred years.
Why?
Because Seorigol ran at a permanent deficit.
Ah…
That suddenly made me sad.
"Of course it's not that enormous a sum in the grand scheme, but from your position it's completely insane!"
"Ow. That hurts, little sister."
"No, seriously! There's not a soul in the family who doesn't know what shape Seorigol is in! A hundred and fifty million?!"
Exactly.
That was the core of it.
I'd kept the mana stone mine as secret as possible. There was no way word had spread inside the family, which meant the family head's intent was crystal clear.
"What the hell did you do this time to get yourself properly marked? I mean, unless the family head has completely lost his mind… And you're just accepting it that easily? Two hundred million?"
"Not two hundred. A hundred and fifty. Fifty million rené is still more money than I could earn in a hundred years, little sister."
"Oh, brag about it, why don't you! So what are you going to do?!"
Yerna raked her fingers irritably through her ebony hair and glared at Ian.
"It'll work out somehow."
Ian shrugged with surprising calm.
"What? 'It'll work out somehow'? That's what you're going with right now? Does that look like the kind of money that just 'works out somehow'? You could sell the entire Seorigol fief and still not make a quarter of it!"
Yerna thumped her chest in frustration. She paced the room for a moment, restless, then started muttering to herself.
"First… write a body-forfeiture contract and take out a loan from a loan shark… or maybe a political marriage to some rich old noble…"
"What?"
"Or hit the black market and sell off some organs, or get mixed up with a human trafficking ring and deal in slaves… and if that doesn't work, drugs…"
Her muttering was growing steadily more unhinged, and every word reached Ian's ears with perfect clarity. He hadn't expected her to go quite that extreme.
"So my little sister really, really doesn't want me dragged off to the army, huh?"
"What—who said that! Forget it! It's none of my business!"
Yerna whipped her face away and snapped.
Well. Fair enough. Yerna and I had never been the kind of warm siblings who fretted over each other.
Right now she was probably just offering advice out of basic human pity, or maybe a scrap of sibling feeling.
Ever since the Aberrations had appeared, the army's reputation had hit rock bottom, and being shipped to the front lines was basically a death sentence.
Then, out of nowhere, Yerna made a suggestion he hadn't seen coming at all.
"Hey. What if you just… left the family? You're a bastard anyway. It's not like they give you anything real. No inheritance rights, no proper support. Why bother clinging to this suffocating place?"
She was worrying about me and giving me advice this far?
If my leaving the family somehow benefited her, that would be one thing.
But it doesn't, not really.
Yerna's expression was quite serious, and in this moment at least, genuine concern was written all over her face.
So this is sincere advice.
I nodded slowly.
The truth was, if I ever decided I couldn't squeeze any more advantage out of the family—or if I judged it a pure loss—I was fully prepared to walk away from this wretched house whenever I wanted.
"That's not a bad idea either."
This time it was Yerna who looked more startled.
"What? You… why are you agreeing so easily? You used to be desperate for the family's recognition every single day. Why are you suddenly ready to throw it all away?!"
"You're the one who told me to give up."
"Yeah, but still! This is just… this isn't like you!"
A dry little laugh escaped me.
Come to think of it, most of the bad endings where Yerna ended up killing me happened when I was thrashing around trying too hard to win the family's approval.
Of course, if the chance presented itself, I still wanted to take the entire Darkest family for myself. That hadn't changed. But there was no need to lock horns with Yerna right now. If anything, planting the impression that I no longer clung to the family would help lower her guard.
"I've just changed my thinking a little, Yerna. For my own benefit, I can discard this miserable family anytime. But… now isn't the time to give up. That would just be running away. I'm going to prove it to Lionel, and to Father. That I'm no longer some creature crawling under their feet."
"Bluster. You're still going to get dragged off to the army."
Yerna kept sniping, but something in her eyes had shifted.
"Well. If you're that confident, go ahead and try. But Lionel's been in a foul mood lately. If you get in his way, he'll probably just kill you outright."
"That's well within my expectations."
"…Aren't you just full of yourself."
"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment. And thanks for worrying."
"Ha! Who said I was worried!"
Having snapped that, Yerna went hmph and whipped her head away again.
She was my little sister, but her personality was genuinely hard to read.
"By the way, Yerna—could you lend me a set of formal men's clothes? The kind you dress a servant in when you go to academic societies and such. Anything will do."
"Men's clothes? What for this time? Finally too embarrassed by those rags of yours?"
Yerna asked with a snide edge.
"I intend to attend tomorrow's banquet."
At that bombshell of a declaration, Yerna's mouth fell open.
Leaving Yerna's room, I headed for my own quarters in the annex. A tiny windowless closet of a room with dust lying thick over everything. But this wasn't the time to care about that. My head was entirely occupied with thoughts of tomorrow's banquet.
The Darkest family's banquet was no mere social gathering. It was a critical political stage—a chance to flaunt the prestige of one of the Chosen Twelve Houses, to strengthen ties with other powerful families, and to cement the internal power structure.
I had never once attended.
Sure, a token invitation arrived every time, but the trauma of being a bastard—and the all-too-vivid picture of how people would react if I actually showed up—had always kept me away.
"What's a bastard doing here?"
"Does he actually think he's a real member of the Darkest family?"
Yeah. Predictable. Painfully predictable.
But this time was different. Even if I went straight back to my fief, there wasn't much I could do immediately. Handling what needed handling here, at the heart of the Darkest family, was far more efficient.
First: drive Lionel out of any public standing, cleanly and decisively.
Second: lay the real groundwork for taking the Darkest family.
The banquet was the perfect opportunity to achieve both at once.
I was in my room mapping out the plan ahead when the door suddenly slammed open and Lionel strode in. He looked around the room with open contempt, as if surveying his own private chambers, and wrinkled his nose without the slightest attempt to hide it.
"Tsk tsk… Still living in a livestock pen, Ian. Suits you perfectly, of course. You've received quite a bit of 'education' in this very room, haven't you?"
His voice dripped with undisguised mockery and malice. A flood of past humiliations and violence—all of it inflicted by him in this tiny room—flashed through my mind like a revolving lantern.
"What do you want, Lionel?" I asked, forcing myself to stay calm.
"What do I want? Can't an older brother pay a perfectly natural visit out of concern for his younger sibling?"
Lionel put on a sickening smile and laid a hand on my shoulder.
"Father seems far too generous with you. A hundred and fifty million rené within a week. Pocket change like that—even a servant under me could scrape it together."
"……"
"Ah, right. For you, though, it might as well have been a death sentence. Well, getting hit once at the Academy stung a bit, but I'll magnanimously let that slide as your elder. Still, I ought to teach you one more lesson. So I prepared something for you. The army."
A question suddenly rose in me.
Why was this man so obsessed with someone like me?
Honestly, if I was just a bastard, wouldn't ignoring me be enough?
"Why do you go this far to make my life hell, Lionel?"
At my question, Lionel seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged.
"Who knows. Just… because I'm bored? And honestly, you're unpleasant to look at. A twisted thing called a bastard. You're a disgrace and a stain on our Darkest family. For the sake of the family's honor, you need to disappear as soon as possible."
His eyes were sincere.
He genuinely loathed me. He wanted to deny my very existence.
"So go back to Seorigol. Fret and scramble in that worthless little fief trying to scrape together a measly hundred and fifty million rené, and in the end get dragged off to the army and die miserably. That is your fate, and the path that serves the family's honor. Ah—and as a special favor, I'll persuade Father to post you to the most dangerous stretch of the front lines. Consider it a final gift from your older brother."
Having said everything he came to say, Lionel left me with one last look of contempt, spun on his heel, and walked out.
He really should have stayed and listened a little longer.
"Well. I suppose that's your fate too, Lionel."
The following evening, the great banquet hall of the Darkest family filled with the sons and daughters of high-ranking nobility.
Beneath glittering chandeliers, men and women in expensive dresses and tailcoats exchanged elegant conversation, while sweet music drifted softly through the entire hall.
Lionel Darkest stood at the highest seat of honor, surveying his surroundings with the triumphant air of a man who owned everything in sight.
Tonight, through this banquet, he intended to proclaim to the world that he was the unshakable heir of the Darkest family.
In truth, he had personally overseen much of the banquet's preparation, and the traditional Darkest family swordsmanship exhibition scheduled for later was likewise progressing steadily under his direction.
His plan was simple: win the exhibition match, flaunt his strength, and further solidify his position as heir.
That girl Yerna might try to throw a wrench in things again… but with momentum like this, there's nothing she can do.
Lionel smiled with absolute confidence. His plan looked flawless.
And so, just as the glittering banquet was beginning—
Lionel was watching Yerna's movements and refining his next steps when the heavy doors of the banquet hall suddenly swung wide open.
Every gaze in the room turned toward the entrance.
And standing there was someone no one had expected.
A man in a cleanly pressed, properly formal evening suit.
"I… Ian Darkest?"
Someone's murmur spread through the hall like ripples from a stone cast into a still pond.