Chapter 9
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Banquet (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
So far, so good.
Carlyle’s interim assessment as he glanced around cautiously at his surroundings.
When they had first entered the banquet hall, Gray’s boiling point had been precarious, but it was still being managed stably.
Of course, that stability rested on labor that felt like it was grinding down Carlyle’s very bones.
“Hero, would you grace us with a dance, if you’re not too indisposed?”
“The Lady appears fatigued at the moment and has no time for such things. My apologies.”
“⋯⋯.”
He flashed a friendly smile and rebuffed the approaching noble youth on Gray’s behalf, only for a look that said, *Who the hell are you to butt in?*, to land squarely on him.
But Carlyle merely returned a transparent smile and met the man’s gaze head-on.
“⋯⋯What’s this attendant thinking? Does he fancy himself somebody?”
The noble youth muttered as he walked away.
It had already happened dozens of times today alone.
Well.
Did that tall, handsome noble youth even realize Carlyle had just protected his nose bone?
One more step closer, and Gray would have smashed her fist into his face without a word.
He could feel Lionel watching him from afar with eyes full of admiration.
It was supposed to be Lionel’s job originally, but since Carlyle was handling the prevention of Gray’s outbursts instead, that was the reaction he got⋯⋯
‘⋯⋯That guy’s had it rough, too.’
To think he’d been stuck attending to this tyrannical Lady all this time—it stirred unexpected sympathy.
Lionel and Carlyle exchanged nods as they looked at each other. It was eye contact only men who’d weathered the same battlefield could share⋯⋯
“⋯⋯.”
Carlyle’s body crumpled with a flop.
Because Gray had kicked the back of his knee from behind.
“⋯⋯Lady, is something the matter?”
“I’m pissed.”
“⋯⋯.”
“Don’t form some weird pact with my father.”
She’d been staring blankly at the ceiling with dead eyes just moments ago, yet she’d somehow caught this perfectly.
‘⋯⋯Life.’
Carlyle couldn’t even fathom what glory or riches made all this worthwhile.
But if Gray actually committed her first murder here, that would be a far bigger disaster.
Anyway.
He cut off anyone trying to cozy up to Gray mid-approach. Minimizing their discomfort was key to preventing incidents in this hall.
But inevitably, there were some even Carlyle couldn’t block.
“⋯⋯.”
He narrowed his eyes at the person currently speaking with Lionel.
A woman in pitch-black clerical robes.
She appeared to be a beauty in her mid-twenties. But that was likely due to her elevated divine power slowing her aging—her actual age was probably much higher.
Felix Gregory Valtheimer.
One of the cardinals serving the Orthodox Church’s Pope.
‘⋯⋯I’ve heard of her.’
By the time his regressions began, she was already long dead alongside Lionel, but her fame was well-known.
The Gray Cardinal.
Even after her death, her cunning and schemes were legendary.
The last person he wanted as an enemy.
A title that never changed, even when Hell’s invasion turned the continent to ruins.
He’d only glimpsed her from afar, but it was unmistakable.
‘Hero.’
[Yeah.]
‘That person really rubs me the wrong way.’
[I feel the same.]
The Holy Sword replied in a tone thick with a wry smile.
[She was one of the powerful backers who made it possible for me to be bestowed. Thanks to her, she’d occasionally ask favors of me.]
‘The fact she could ask favors of you proves she’s no ordinary person.’
Watching Gray as a child, it was hard to tell if she was human or beast—yet this woman was one of the few who could collar her.
[Far from ordinary. Honestly, she creeped me out a lot when I was young. Like she had a fox farm in her gut.]
‘⋯⋯.’
[I still don’t fully understand what she was thinking back then. But she’s not a bad person—that much is certain.]
⋯⋯Hearing the Holy Sword speak this way confirmed she was insanely dangerous.
‘How do you know she’s not bad?’
[During the Orthodox Church’s collapse, she was the last to protect civilians until her death. Separate from her cunning, her care for the weak was genuine.]
‘Hmm.’
[That’s why she’s the Gray Cardinal. Pursuing the purest, noblest goals with the blackest, ugliest means.]
White and black mixed into gray.
He got how the name stuck.
Carlyle chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.
At least she wasn’t coming this way.
She just wore a benevolent smile and chatted idly with the Grand Duke.
The real bomb wasn’t approaching—thank goodness, he thought—
“—Oh my, Lady Chasefield?”
“⋯⋯.”
“It’s been ages? You’ve barely shown your face.”
Gray’s blank stare twitched with a flicker of her brow.
“⋯⋯Anastasia.”
“Is that all the reaction you have for an old friend?”
The noble lady with striking wavy blonde hair smiled.
“⋯⋯.”
Here it came. The bomb.
◆
Marchioness Heiress Anastasia.
According to Gray, she was a fellow student who’d walked the path of the sword with her.
She had decent enough skill, but a petty, narrow-minded personality twisted all out of shape.
For such a person, having the Hero as her peer must have been utter misery. Enough to regenerate her ego into a monster of inferiority.
Which made her Gray’s ‘first murder’ target.
“⋯⋯Marchioness Heiress Anastasia. At present, the Lady is—”
And she was proving exactly why right now.
Before Carlyle could intervene, Anastasia snatched a nearby wine glass and splashed it right in Gray’s face.
“⋯⋯.”
“⋯⋯.”
A silence like cold water poured over the surroundings descended.
“You have the gall to show that face at a banquet. So proud of stealing the Holy Sword through foul means?”
“⋯⋯.”
“Parading every bad rumor imaginable, yet your skin must be thick as hide?”
⋯⋯Indeed.
This was a declaration of war, clear as day—a duel challenge by any measure.
Especially against a lunatic who’d bisect someone without hesitation.
Gray, wine dripping down her face, slowly closed her eyes.
The next moment, as she raised them languidly.
Killing intent that made spines crawl bristled fiercely within.
Her ever-present Holy Sword flashed toward her hand like lightning.
“—Lady.”
Thus.
If Carlyle’s voice hadn’t cut in at just the right moment.
“A fine evening. And the Grand Duke is nearby.”
“⋯⋯.”
“That much, at least, cannot happen. Please reconsider, for the Grand Duke’s sake and mine.”
For an instant, her hand hesitated.
“⋯⋯.”
Gray let out a deep sigh and flicked her gaze toward Anastasia.
Then, her hand moved like lightning once more.
Except this time, it wasn’t the Holy Sword’s blade—but her bare fist.
“—!”
Anastasia’s body folded like a folding screen from the blow.
“That was a warning.”
Her voice fell indifferently as the woman toppled, gasping for air.
“Don’t talk to me again. Get lost. No next time.”
“⋯⋯.”
The tone was utterly frigid.
Yet Carlyle—and even Lionel—felt their jaws drop.
Good lord.
Had this woman just shown ‘mercy’?
‘Hero.’
[⋯⋯Something.]
‘I might actually cry right now.’
Was this the feeling of a father watching his daughter grow?
Biological father Lionel looked too stunned to feel anything.
“⋯⋯.”
Meanwhile, Anastasia gasped on the floor, glaring up at Gray.
‘⋯⋯That’s a relief.’
Carlyle watched, relieved.
She was scared. That single blow had shown her the vast gap in power between them.
She’d back off quietly now, surely⋯⋯
“—Watching out for your father? Pointless meddling.”
⋯⋯Or not.
‘What the hell’s her problem?’
After all his hard work averting disaster, she was dousing herself in oil and charging into the flames.
Despite her obvious fear, she spat curses at Gray like a demon.
As if she had no choice but to do so.
“Born different from the rest of us, and you treasure family? Hilarious. You look down on everyone around you! Don’t act like family makes you special—!”
“⋯⋯.”
“The Grand Duke will love a monster like you forever? Maybe now, but he won’t shelter a lunatic indefinitely—!”
Gray’s face twisted.
Not the hot flash of anger from before, but a deeper emotion overtaking it.
Genuine fury rising from the depths.
The kind born from knowing there was truth in those words.
Killing intent flooded her face again. Her hand crept toward her sword.
“⋯⋯.”
If this continued, all his efforts would be for naught.
But as Carlyle watched, a different thought struck him.
—Something’s off.
He’d felt it since earlier.
Even after Gray spared her once, even drenched in that killing intent, even knowing fear—she was still provoking her deliberately.
As if compelled by some reason.
“—Whoops, slipped—!”
“⋯⋯?”
Gray, reaching for her sword again, turned wide eyes to Carlyle.
Anyone could see it was exaggerated acting as he slipped and piled onto the crouching Anastasia—but even so.
From atop the sprawled Anastasia, who let out a *gheuk*, Carlyle whispered.
“No, Lady Anastasia.”
“⋯⋯!”
Anastasia’s face froze at his murmur.
“⋯⋯W-what are you⋯⋯”
“Do what I say if you don’t want to die. Won’t say it twice.”
“⋯⋯.”
“I don’t know who’s pulling your strings or what they promised, but live now to scheme later. This path ends with your death. The Lady shows no mercy.”
“⋯⋯.”
Anastasia’s breath hitched. Her trembling eyes betrayed her turmoil.
“I’ll count to three, then you get up naturally. And apologize to the Lady.”
With that, Carlyle stood, helping her up.
“Sorry, Lady! My clumsiness!”
“N-no⋯⋯”
Anastasia stammered, shaking.
“S-sorry. Lady Chasefield, I-I lost my mind for a moment and committed a grave discourtesy⋯⋯”
“⋯⋯Get lost.”
Gray turned away as if too bothered to engage.
⋯⋯Seeing her hand drop from the sword, Carlyle sighed inwardly in relief.
Then, as Anastasia fled the banquet hall like a pursued animal, he quietly addressed the Holy Sword.
‘Hero.’
[Same thought here.]
‘⋯⋯.’
[I didn’t notice back then⋯⋯ but now it’s clear. This was deliberate provocation. Intent on getting hurt by me, no less.]
As if.
Someone had put her up to it, trying to drag Gray into an ‘incident.’
He knew who immediately. Anastasia’s pale face as she left was fixed on one person.
“⋯⋯.”
Cardinal Felix still watched them with a benevolent smile.
Utterly unmoved by the scene.
‘Hero.’
[Yeah.]
‘She’s seriously creepy.’
[Agreed, wholeheartedly.]
◆
On the way out of the banquet hall.
The returning carriage brimmed with silence.
Gray stared wordlessly out the window. Her expression was blank, hard to read, but her mood clearly churned.
“⋯⋯Lady, let’s wipe the rest off.”
He offered a towel, and as she took it silently to rub her face, she spoke.
“Hey.”
“Yes, Lady.”
“You did well stopping that last one.”
“⋯⋯.”
She’d heard that, huh.
“If not for you, I’d have killed her there. You’ve earned some credit.”
“Yes?”
“Good thing I didn’t trouble Father. Thanks to you.”
“⋯⋯Yes?”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯I’m saying thanks.”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯Y-yes?”
“Kill you?”
“Thank you, Lady. I’m so honored I hardly know what to do. Hearing such jade-like words has left me briefly deranged—”
“⋯⋯Cut the crap.”
Gray sighed, rubbing her face roughly after her casual profanity.
“Hey.”
“Yes.”
“When we first met, I said you’d regret firing me.”
“You did.”
“Felt it today. You were right.”
“Not one for empty words.”
“So I thought it over long and hard. Just reached a conclusion.”
Gray stated flatly.
“You. Share my room starting tonight.”
“???.”
“Gotta get used to it eventually. Start now.”
Had he misheard?
◆
“Grand Duke Chasefield.”
“Yes?”
“That young man’s name? He looks like a servant.”
“Carlyle Bellfast. Considering bringing him on as my daughter’s companion.”
“Oh my.”
“May I ask why you inquire⋯⋯?”
“Hmm—well?”
“..?”
“Just seems like an interesting young man.”
“Is that⋯⋯so?”
“Yes. I’d love to see him again.”
◆
[System Message]
▶ Trait ‘Hero’s Companion’ activates.
▶ Portion of ‘Reformation List’ updated!
[ ★ Violent Tendency 100% → 95% ]
▶ Reward granted!
▶ Check Trait tab!
[System Message]
▶ Handled ‘Key Event’ smoothly!
▶ Trust rises sharply.
[ ★ Trust 5.1% → 40% ]
▶ Reward granted!
▶ Check Trait tab!
▶ Your relationship with the Hero changes dramatically.
▶ Greatly impacts future events.
▶ Hero no longer wary of you.
▶ Hero wants to bring you to the ‘Academy’!
[System Message]
▶ ‘Gray Cardinal’ takes interest in you.
▶ Add target to ‘Taming’ list!
◆