Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Jevella Zahav
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Jevella Zahav
I'd been mistaken for a bastard child right off the bat, and now it looked like I was going to marry my new sister.
Truly a disastrous turn of phrase.
I knew full well that this was a fantasy world where noble blood truly carried a different lineage...
But as someone whose identity as an Earthling still held stronger sway, this development was incredibly hard for me to accept.
For starters, what was I even supposed to talk about with this new sister of mine, whom I'd only glimpsed once?
No, regardless of what we talked about, couldn't I just make her feel enough revulsion to kick me out?
The first method that came to mind was leering at her with sleazy eyes or teasing her slyly.
Things that absolutely shouldn't happen... but weren't they pretty common, really?
However, in House Zahav—which bore the unimaginable derogatory title of Incestuous Noble House—things were a bit different.
They'd probably just smile contentedly, thinking our marriage would make for a harmonious couple.
To think that my inheritance from a father I'd never even seen included a sister-slash-wife.
Even I, who wasn't actually related by blood, felt like I might lose my mind just chewing on the idea. If I really had been House Zahav's bastard son, how would that have felt?
I was shaking my head inwardly at the thought.
The moment we arrived at my room, Karen—who had just sent another servant to inform Jevella that I'd accept the dinner invitation—opened her mouth.
"By the way, Young Master Enoch. How exactly did you do that thing from earlier?"
"Huh? Do what?"
At my words, Karen glanced around the room once.
This room, which had been the previous patriarch's until just a few days ago and was now mine, with its distastefully gaudy design.
Only after confirming that the thick door was properly shut did she speak in a cautious voice.
"I mean when you faced Sir Calton's aura. Didn't some strange pattern appear on your arm? If my eyes weren't deceiving me, it looked like it disrupted the arrangement of his aura."
"Oh, so that's how it works?"
"...Pardon?"
Karen blinked, as if unsure what she'd just heard. I shrugged at her.
"Truth is, I don't really know how it works either. I just use it, and it does the trick. It has an effect, you know? Something like that."
"What do you mean... How have you been using that power until now?"
"I just tense up and hit hard, and it works."
"...".
Karen stared at me with cold, dead eyes, but I stood tall with confidence.
What could I do? That was genuinely all I knew.
With a touch of grievance, I added an explanation.
"I'm serious. Though the feeling of tensing up is a bit different. It's not just flexing the arm muscles—more like squeezing from deeper inside... Yeah. If I had to compare, it's close to the sensation of bearing down on your lower abdomen when you're trying to... you know."
"That's a filthy example."
"What can I do when that's the only example that comes to mind? I don't know any fancy phrases."
As Karen edged slightly away from me, I chuckled and raised one arm. Then I clenched my fist hard.
Crunch—
A sound like something inside my body was being reassembled.
At the same time, my heartbeat intensified, a complex pattern emerged above my chest, and it extended down to my clenched fist.
It looked like intricate geometric shapes drawn in a single stroke across my body as the canvas.
Of course I didn't know what it was, and even my ungrateful comrades—who had trashed the home I'd barely managed to secure—claimed they had no clue either.
But House Zahav might. The next generation was a disaster, so it was obvious they'd collapse soon, but for now, as a noble house, they might have some information.
"So? Does it ring any bells? Ever seen something similar?"
"Hmm. Even looking again, I don't know. I can tell mana moved, but it's not magic. And it's not aura either—the density seems too low."
"Whoa. You can tell that just by looking?"
"House Zahav's butlers must be competent, so we have some knowledge of both aura and magic."
Karen spoke with a subtly proud air—not bragging, but a natural sense of self-assurance.
Though it deflated pretty quickly.
"...You said you've been using it intuitively without proper training, right? It's rare, but members of House Zahav's bloodline sometimes experience things like you, Young Master Enoch."
"Really?"
"Not the same ability, of course. Just that they instinctively wield some unique power they can't even explain themselves."
"Wow. I thought I was the only weirdo all this time. Do you remember what abilities the others had?"
"A few. For starters, the patriarch before last could smell mana. About a century ago, the founder of the Tristan branch family—which split off from a collateral line—could perfectly mimic any movement after seeing it once..."
Karen's explanation went on at length. Some abilities were so impressive you couldn't help but admire them, while others made you wonder what practical use they had.
But there was one clear commonality...
"They're all limited to the body, huh?"
"Yes. Most make you exceptionally good at something physical."
Like a nose so sharp you could detect lingering traces of mana, eyes so keen you could memorize and replicate anything perfectly after one glance, or ears so sensitive you could read heartbeats to pierce through lies.
A particular body part becomes extraordinarily superior, enabling the impossible.
"These cases are presumed to be exceptional manifestations of one of House Zahav's Bloodline Abilities: physical prowess."
"So not knowing how to use it consciously is..."
"Like how people can walk on two legs but most can't explain the mechanics in detail—it's just something you can do instinctively. It happens naturally through practice, as you described earlier, Young Master."
"If that's the case, what part of me stands out for this?"
"Probably mana sensitivity? You instinctively manipulate your internal mana to counter aura."
"Oh."
It made sense. A pretty plausible story, even.
'But I'm not actually House Zahav's bastard.'
The premise was wrong.
If my mana sensitivity was exceptionally high as Karen suggested, I'd have been using internal mana in other ways long ago.
But I knew I lacked that kind of talent.
All I could do was sense the mana inside me.
And even that was only possible because the stolen spirit medicine's energy was overwhelmingly potent.
Like how chugging strong liquor lets you intuit the shape of your esophagus and stomach whether you want to or not—mana too intense for me to handle made me aware of its presence.
I couldn't even move it at will unless I tensed up hard like before.
If I truly had outstanding talent, I wouldn't have been clueless.
In other words: no talent, but results anyway.
Cases like this usually pointed to one culprit.
The mad alchemist.
I didn't know his name. Or his goals. Just that he was so obsessed with experiments he'd ally with black mages without hesitation, and unluckily chose me as his guinea pig for all sorts of human experiments.
Like feeding me alternating doses of every poison and antidote to create a universal cure.
Or dunking my whole body in unknown drugs to melt and regenerate it repeatedly, claiming human bodies were too fragile and needed toughening.
Or subjecting me to infinite loops of nightmarish illusions via fantasy magic to build mental resistance.
Good thing I gritted my teeth and endured—anyone normal would've died ages ago.
...Well. After barely surviving all that madness, he tried to grind me up entirely into a spirit medicine to absorb all his research.
At that point, I stopped just enduring and filled with venomous resolve to take him down with me, even in death.
So I pretended to pass out... and at the most crucial moment—when the transmutation finished and the alchemist let his guard down—I sprang up and shoved whatever elixir ingredients I could grab into his mouth.
That was the surest way to contaminate him and the other materials.
With the two key ingredients fusing chaotically, the flawed transmutation circle exploded. I slit the throat of the alchemist—spitting blood from the backlash amid the workshop rubble—and escaped.
It would've been great if that was the end... but sadly, the world doesn't roll that simply.
The black mage organization he belonged to started hunting me with assassins, and other groups caught the scent of profit and joined the chase with fire in their eyes.
On top of that, side effects from human experiments or latent results popped up now and then, things even I didn't know about.
It wasn't for nothing that my internal mana ballooned enormously from scavenging whatever I could.
To survive against strong foes, to stabilize this body that wouldn't obey me despite being mine—I ate whatever and ended up like this.
Come to think of it, techniques I'd chalked up to bodily ordeal and practice might actually be experiment results.
The realization soured my mood a bit.
...No. The experiments and escape succeeded because I gritted my teeth and endured, right?
The darker the past, the more embellishment it needs.
In that sense, this could be called a power I earned through effort.
"Heh heh."
"Young Master Enoch is grinning wickedly again..."
Regardless of Karen's dismay, cheers to me for surviving another day.
After patting myself on the back like that, I finally spoke.
"By the way, I had no idea there were others like me. Karen, could you tell me about those past Zahavs with unique abilities from the records you read?"
The premise differed from mine, but they all wielded powers instinctively in a realm beyond teaching, just like me.
Nothing else to do until dinner—might as well learn about it. Plus, it sounded fun.
If it helped, great; if not, just entertainment.
I nodded to myself briefly. Karen lightly placed a hand on her chest and bowed.
"Of course. Among the books I brought for you to read, Young Master Enoch, there's one on House Zahav's history. It details them there."
"Oh, that one?"
"Yes."
The day this room became mine, Karen had hauled in a pile of books, saying I'd need them, and stacked them in the corner. So it was in there.
I nodded and looked at her.
Karen stared blankly back at me.
"...".
"...".
How long did we just gaze into each other's eyes? Finally realizing the issue, I added,
"I can't read."
"???"
"So you have to read it for me, Karen."
"Pardon...?"
Karen blinked in astonishment and asked cautiously.
"Are you serious?"
"Obviously. Think about where I grew up. Would anyone have taught me to read?"
"Ah."
I hadn't seen other parts of the empire, but I could swear Calypso Territory had the highest illiteracy rate. Hardly anyone knew how to read or write.
Even with my past-life memories and awareness of writing's importance... when almost no one around used it and no one to teach me, what could I do?
Now grasping my meaning, Karen's lips pressed firmer—a sign of her more resolute expression than usual.
"Starting tomorrow, I'll add language lessons to your schedule, Young Master."
"Oh. So you'll read to me today, right?"
"Yes, sure."
"Let's see. Start with the naughty books..."
"Are you actually insane, Young Master?"
"Hey now. A butler should handle anything."
If I say dig, she digs.
"Mm... Little brother? Is the tea to your taste?"
"Yeah, sure. I don't know much about tea, but this is pretty good."
The dessert had been overly sweet, leaving my throat clogged, so I downed the rest of the tea in one go.
For some reason, Jevella's expression turned strange.
...This isn't good, is it?