Chapter 73
I found myself biting my nails without realizing it.
Llewellyn doesn't get angry easily, but after spending months close to her, I'd only ever seen her truly furious once before.
It was really scary...
I glanced sideways at Llewellyn. The rage boiling on her face suddenly vanished in an instant. I felt even more terror from that blank expression than from her angry one.
That's the signal that the fight's about to start...
My prediction hit the mark. A smile laced with madness began to spread over her emotionless face.
"A rootless mutt like you probably doesn't even have medicine for that flapping mouth. I'll rip out your tongue and turn it into dog spray, you son of a bitch."
"......What?"
Llewellyn had always been a sharp-tongued fighter, but when she got truly pissed, the seal on her mouth shattered, unleashing a full-blown cursing machine.
"A worthless piece of shit with no redeeming qualities, bloated with fake confidence like some overinflated ego, yapping away without a shred of backbone. You're exactly the kind of bastard I hate most—talentless trash who runs his mouth nonstop! Everyone in the empire knows your businesses are bleeding money! You're too ashamed to show your face!"
"Y-You crazy bitch! You done talking?"
"No! Not even close! I can put up with a lot, but I cannot stand incompetence! A Decardo with zero business sense, screwing up every meeting with clients like the hopeless wreck you are! I won't tolerate you prancing around claiming to be Decardo's heir any longer!"
"......Y-You!"
While I was sizing up whether to step in and protect Llewellyn from the overheating atmosphere, she beat me to it, unleashing a torrent of pure, unfiltered venom. Gone was her usual refined elegance—she tore into Merhen like a rabid dog, eyes blazing with fury.
Should I... jump in?
I hesitated, leaning back against the wall. At this point, Merhen actually seemed to be on the ropes.
Still, it's impressive seeing her stand her ground like that.
I couldn't help but smile faintly as I watched her. The words pouring out like a burst dam were all the things she'd bottled up for years. Merhen was a walking trauma for her. The fact that she could finally say what she wanted to his face meant she'd overcome so much of it—and that alone put my mind at ease.
Her hands clutching her dress like it might tear. Her teeth gritted with venom. Her bright red hair, a tangled mess yet still burning like flames that could consume everything. And those green eyes, blazing wildly atop an unyielding core.
No fragile rose, no beautiful sunset, no ripe apple suited her. She was fire.
"Listen up. The Decardo heir will be me! Not some bastard like you—me! From now on, I'm the successor!"
She was a blaze—fiercer than any I'd ever seen, a pure flame tempered with cold reason.
Her bold declaration echoed down the corridor. Even I was startled enough to let my mouth fall open a little.
Merhen, eyes bulging and jaw slack, stammered in shock.
"Y-You... you're gonna... inherit...?"
"That's right! I'll do it dozens of times better than you!"
Her words dripped with such arrogant confidence that they rang utterly believable. I gazed at her steadily, smiling warmly at my friend's growth.
"You're completely insane."
"If living the life I want makes me crazy, then I'll go mad a hundred times over—and gladly."
A fierce clash of gazes passed between those black eyes and green ones. Merhen let out a hollow laugh through gritted teeth at Llewellyn's chewed-out words. His eyes gleamed with eerie madness—not a good sign.
"Ha! Crazy bitches need a good whipping!"
Merhen's massive hand swung down without mercy. Llewellyn squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the pain.
No one can be good at everything—that's why we live together. If Llewellyn was a genius at business, I was a genius at any kind of physical fight.
In the split second before his hand met her cheek, I surged my mana to block the space between them.
"How about we cool it, Lord Decardo."
If my friend was about to get violent treatment, it was my turn to step up.
"Cr-Crisis...?"
"Lady Crisis. Get the title right."
Merhen's eyes went blank where I gripped his wrist, then widened in shock. I stared at him impassively as he stammered, then turned to Llewellyn.
She'd squeezed her eyes shut expecting pain, only to peek open when nothing came. Spotting me, her face lit up with surprise.
"Llewellyn, you alright?"
"Huh?"
"Your hair. It looks painful—are you okay?"
Only then did she seem to realize her state; both her cheeks flushed red. She hurriedly smoothed her disheveled red locks.
"......I showed you an ugly side."
"I wasn't talking about your hair being a mess. That doesn't matter. I meant, does it hurt?"
Even in this mess, worrying about her appearance over her well-being—it was so pitifully Llewellyn. I gently stopped her small hand from fussing with her hair. Merhen's short yelp as I twisted his wrist? Easily ignored.
"......I-I'm fine."
Her face burning, Llewellyn whipped her head away. Pretending not to notice her trembling shoulders, I gave her a soft smile before turning back to Merhen. My face was now a mask of cold steel, stripped of all emotion.
"Lord Decardo. What kind of thug behavior is this?"
"......Th-This is Decardo family business! Stay out of it, Lady Crisis!"
"My friend's about to get assaulted—how could I? Besides, I heard some rude remarks about me too."
Merhen's face drained white. He struggled desperately to pull his wrist free, but when I bore down like I might snap it, he thrashed like a frightened rat—glaring daggers all the while.
"......How much did you hear?"
"Probably from start to finish."
Merhen's face turned ashen-blue. No matter how wealthy the Decardos were, they couldn't outmatch the Crisis family in raw power. Marquis versus duke—that said it all.
If Crisis made a formal complaint over Merhen's insolence, he'd pay dearly.
If I told Father, Kal, or Aria, the three of them would rush over and tear him limb from limb... Better to keep this quiet if possible, but it'll make a great leverage tool.
I slowly raked my frozen gaze over him, sorting my thoughts. He shuddered, reading the murder in my eyes.
"What should I do with you."
A chilling, toneless voice slipped from my lips. Merhen, trembling violently, bared his teeth and bellowed.
"D-Do you have proof I insulted you, milady? Even if you're Crisis, you can't accuse a marquis house without evidence!"
What an utter moron.
It was the moment I understood why Llewellyn had been ready to write a whole novel's worth of insults about him. I let out an involuntary scoff at his cornered-rat squeaks.
"That crazy bastard's gonna tank the whole family..."
Llewellyn muttered from behind me. I crossed my arms lightly, fixing Merhen with an icy stare.
"Seems like you don't grasp the power structure, Lord Decardo."
"......What the hell does that mean?"
I squeezed harder on the wrist of this fool who still hadn't caught on. He let out a shrill scream.
Remembering what he'd done to Llewellyn, I wanted to just crush it—but I didn't feel like dealing with his hysterics again, so I tamped down the urge.
Twisting my lips slightly, I leaned in close and whispered.
"Crisis is the empire's one and only ducal house. Even if apples grew on grapevines, if it came from Crisis lips, it's gospel truth."
The Crisis family had inherited military command for generations. Every era brought protests from other nobles—"Isn't monopolizing command too much nepotism?"—but Crisis crushed them all with innate sword talent, charisma, and command sense passed down through blood.
"Even as a lady without a title yet, I'm still Crisis. You think we can't bury one little lord?"
That Crisis wielded supreme power throughout imperial history, an object of terror to all. Merhen froze rigid at my deadpan whisper.
"You'll answer for your words. By the way, badmouthing Crisis costs dearly."
I crooked my lips, eyes narrowed. Merhen, eyes wide and shaking, ground out a whisper.
"A bastard girl born to a commoner whore—"
It was quiet, but in the silent hall, everyone heard. Incompetent trash who couldn't read the room or watch his mouth.
This bastard.
My lips tightened just as fury boiled over in Llewellyn, her feet moving toward Merhen.
Crack.
"Gahk!"
Black smoke flooded the area in an instant, coiling around Merhen's throat. He clawed at his neck, choking and coughing.
I recognized the familiar mana signature and sighed involuntarily.
Here we go.
I was barely annoyed from my mercenary days' thick skin to insults, but whoever had been eavesdropping in secret was livid.
I stared straight at the spot where I'd sensed a presence earlier. The corridor behind Merhen looked empty, but I'd felt the spatial distortion and known someone was there.
"Don't kill him."
My sigh-mixed words drew the presence closer. With each step, the invisibility magic faded, slowly revealing a human form.
Black hair regaining color. Long legs striding fiercely. Red eyes flashing with madness and rage.
"......Kal."
My brother, Kal Crisis.
"Eh, why not? Trash wasting even the air it breathes deserves death, don't you think?"
Kal, face blooming with an uncharacteristically bright smile, sauntered over and nuzzled my shoulder like a cat. His soft black hair bunched against my dark uniform.
To outsiders, it might look like affection. But after months together, I tensed up completely.
People express anger differently. Some scowl and yell, some go cold and stern, others even smile.
And Kal? The very last type.
"Can't I kill him? Hmm?"
This was how he acted when he was furious to his core.