Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Black Lion (2)
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The silence was thick, like walking on thin ice in every direction.
For a long while.
For quite some time.
And piercing through that stillness was the voice of the Black Lion Margrave, exploding into laughter.
Even Carlyle, who had orchestrated this situation, found himself momentarily stunned. It was a bright, cheerful laugh that seemed to squeeze every last bit from her lungs.
The Margrave, who had been rolling on the floor laughing, finally sat up. She wiped the tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and barely managed to open her mouth.
“Ah—enough. That was a real laugh after so long.”
With those words, the Black Lion Margrave waved her hand dismissively.
Just like that, the 'fake' Margrave who had been tormenting her moments ago vanished without a trace.
Along with it, her own battered maid appearance tore apart with a rip—
Revealing a woman with silver hair and red eyes.
[⋯⋯Well, well.]
From within the holy sword, the Hero let out a scoff as he watched.
In other words, something like 'Well, isn't this something?'
[I didn't notice this at all. Looks like it's no ordinary high-level illusion technique.]
‘⋯⋯What? Even the Hero didn't notice?’
He had assumed that if there was any kind of technique involved, this person would have picked up on it.
No wonder there had been no word until now—it meant even the Hero thought the situation was real.
If it hadn't been for Blackie, who judges by 'feeling' everything rather than just 'seeing', they would have been completely fooled.
“How did you know? I thought I did pretty well.”
Perhaps a bit annoyed at having her technique seen through, the Black Lion Margrave crossed her arms and tilted her head. A mischievous smile played fully on her lips.
The desperate, pitiful cries from earlier were nowhere to be seen. Instead, she exuded pure cheerfulness and playfulness.
⋯⋯Yeah, with this demeanor, it was easy to see why Gray had called her a 'brat'.
“Magical beasts are more sensitive to others' emotions than anyone. No matter how elaborate the illusion, if it lacks 'sincerity,' they can tell it's fake.”
Hearing that, the Margrave slightly parted her lips and looked at Blackie, who was clinging to Carlyle.
“Ah— so this is the one. The catastrophe-level magical beast.”
She reached out toward Blackie as she spoke.
But Blackie was dozing off with soft purring sounds, nodding its head sleepily—a sight that would make anyone react the same way.
Even Gray, with her dry sensibilities, had done something similar.
And sure enough, Blackie's response was just like back then.
Its eyes snapped open, glaring warily at the hand reaching for it.
“⋯⋯Margrave. She doesn't like strangers touching her—”
Carlyle gave a wry smile, trying to intervene. He knew exactly what reaction to expect.
But what followed was a little different from his prediction.
Sniff, sniff.
Blackie cautiously smelled the Margrave's 'scent'.
Carlyle watched in surprise at the unexpected sight.
“—!”
Blackie bared its teeth and snapped at her with a crunch!
Unlike the previous wary posture, this was clearly an aggressive move with hostile intent.
The startled Margrave pulled her hand back as Carlyle panicked, scooping up Blackie and retreating.
“⋯⋯Good grief. Is she always this ferocious?”
“No, she's not usually like this⋯⋯”
Carlyle fumbled for words as he struggled to respond.
Even now, as the Margrave cautiously backed away, Blackie's blazing eyes glared at her like it wanted to devour her.
“She must hate me for trying to trick her—shouldn't have done that.”
“⋯⋯Then why pull a stunt like this?”
“I thought you'd like stuff like this?”
“⋯⋯.”
“Word around the outpost was full of it. Mr. Ghost. That you like degrading women, hitting them, tormenting them—”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Boring— I could've joined in if that was the case—”
“⋯⋯.”
⋯⋯What was boring about it, and what did she mean by joining in?
Anyway.
“⋯⋯I'd appreciate it if you refrained from pranks like this. What if I got mad and attacked?”
“That would've been fun too.”
“Yes?”
“They say you're interesting. Soft and squishy, yet sharp as a blade in weird ways. And above all, capable.”
“⋯⋯.”
“So I wanted to see for myself. You seem like the real deal— I like that.”
The Black Lion Margrave said with a smile.
⋯⋯Though her eyes, devoid of any mirth, scanned Carlyle up and down.
“I've heard a lot about you, Carlyle Bellfast. The Dean of Cradle, the 1st Prince, the 2nd Princess, the Gray Cardinal—they all talk about you endlessly.”
She added that he was the hottest topic in the imperial palace.
“Even His Majesty shows quite a bit of interest.”
Carlyle silently watched the Margrave grinning as she spoke.
Seeing her like that, a sudden realization hit him.
“⋯⋯Did you call me here to talk about that?”
“Yep. Tomorrow's strategy meeting was just an excuse. The Death March ends tomorrow anyway, so I wanted to see your face beforehand.”
Hearing her say it outright only confirmed it further.
She meant it sincerely.
⋯⋯Tomorrow's event didn't matter to her at all. She was just curious about what kind of person Carlyle was.
‘She's a weird one.’
Really, she was.
“⋯⋯But didn't you say it was dangerous? That tomorrow is the Death March's peak.”
“I'll handle the formations and command myself somehow. No need for a meeting on that⋯⋯”
Her grin deepened.
“As for the rest, if there's anything worth my advice, we can have a meeting.”
“Yes?”
“About how you can 'better handle' those dragons⋯⋯ your 'methods.' Sound good?”
“⋯⋯.”
Ah.
Aha.
Now that he thought about it, that's how it would go.
To better nurture that 'power of love' or whatever, the discussion would inevitably veer toward catering even more to those perverts' twisted tastes.
Debating it with the Margrave.
Hm.
“⋯⋯We'll manage somehow.”
“You'd better.”
There were limits to how much humiliation one could take.
Carlyle let out a sigh and rubbed his dry face.
“Then, if there's nothing else?”
“Yeah, go rest up. Thanks for the fun experience.”
“Yes. Then, if you'll excuse me.”
As Carlyle turned to leave, the Margrave suddenly spoke.
“I'm Liza. Liza Poheaven.”
“⋯⋯Yes?”
Carlyle tilted his head at the sudden introduction.
“Means we should get close from now on.”
“I⋯⋯ see.”
“Yep.”
Liza grinned.
“You mind if I call you Oppa?”
“—”
For a moment.
Carlyle's breath caught in his throat.
Someone had asked him exactly the same question once before.
⋯⋯Come to think of it, she even looked a bit like Liza.
Exactly like that—a girl around this age, with silver hair, red eyes, asking that.
-You mind if I call you Oppa?
A young, childish girl.
A memory from somewhere far back, across eons.
From the darkest corner of his mind, in a drawer of trauma buried under thick dust.
Beyond countless deaths.
A question from someone he had sworn to forget forever.
“⋯⋯.”
Struggling not to stagger, Carlyle finally forced his mouth open.
“—No.”
“Aww, why nooo—!”
“I just don't like being called that.”
“I'll call you that anyway. Oppa!”
Ignoring Liza's beaming smile, Carlyle bowed stiffly.
“⋯⋯I'll see you next time, Margrave Liza.”
Soon after.
Carlyle hurried out of the tent like he was fleeing.
His head spun. Dizzy. Breath short.
His face was probably deathly pale.
[Are you alright?]
Even the Hero voiced concern first.
Carlyle took deep breaths and barely managed to reply.
“Yes.”
[What's wrong? Something the matter?]
“⋯⋯No. She just reminded me of someone I know.”
After catching his breath, Carlyle finally calmed down and wiped his face.
With a sigh, he spoke.
“Hero.”
[Yes.]
“How many people do you think can use a technique even you couldn't detect?”
He was talking about the illusion Liza had just used.
Even the Hero hadn't sensed a thing.
[If I were in perfect condition, I'd say none—but in this state, there could be quite a few.]
“Even so, fooling the Hero means it's no ordinary skill. I've never heard that the Black Lion is proficient in that kind of technique.”
[The Emperor's executioner. No talent is too great to believe.]
“True, but it still feels off.”
[What are you getting at?]
“⋯⋯Just that I don't particularly want to get close to her.”
Nothing stood out from meeting her directly.
No glaring signs either.
But something felt uneasy.
That person.
Definitely not just an 'ordinary' noble.
Above all.
‘⋯⋯Why isn't she even on the taming list?’
If she was favorable toward him, and someone that important, she would have shown up on the list by now—like everyone else.
Yet.
She alone broke the pattern.
Standing apart from the others.
“I'll need to watch her carefully.”
[⋯⋯Probably wise, as you say. No one matches your instincts on that.]
The holy sword sighed as it spoke.
[That said, have you thought about tomorrow?]
“Yes?”
[I told you—you'd handle maximizing that 'power of love' tomorrow.]
Ah.
Right.
[You'll probably need to push harder than before⋯⋯]
“⋯⋯.”
[Something pretty extreme, I imagine?]
Pondering that, Carlyle's expression hardened.
“⋯⋯⋯⋯Those sisters won't be satisfied with anything mild, will they?”
[No.]
“⋯⋯.”
[⋯⋯.]
After a moment of silence, Carlyle hesitantly spoke.
“⋯⋯How about this?”
The holy sword's response to Carlyle's stammered plan was simple.
[Crazy pervert bastard.]
“⋯⋯.”
Well, it meant it would be effective.
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