Chapter 80
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Banquet (4)
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“Kyaa~”
A scream that was blatantly performative. From this, one thing became crystal clear.
In terms of raw power or capacity, it might be debatable whether I surpassed her... but technically speaking, Adriana had the edge.
...Though I had no idea why she was using those impressive skills just to make me knead her butt.
Caught off guard for a moment, Cornelia checked the position of my hand and leaped back with a shout.
“Stop making weird noises, Aunt! And Grand Duke Zahav! Get your hands off my aunt!”
It was a bold declaration, but inwardly anxious about ending up in the same predicament, she wriggled her butt while trying to escape my grasp.
Unable to shake off my arm with such half-hearted movements, she soon went limp in resignation.
Ah, limp in the shoulders, that is. Cornelia's were quite firm too. As expected of imperial blood... or was it the remarkable maternal Makaira family?
As I instinctively kneaded away before letting my hand drop, Cornelia finally let out a deep sigh of relief.
“Grand Duke Zahav, don't get the wrong idea. It's just because Mother and Aunt are twins, that's all.”
“Niece dear, where's the fun if I spoil it beforehand?”
“Even so, you can't embellish imperial secrets just for laughs!”
Cornelia and Adriana bickered on either side, their identical faces turned toward each other.
Listening to their exchange, the tension that had been creeping up on me melted away completely.
I might have overreacted to her sharp aura... but Adriana didn't seem to harbor any real hostility or suspicion toward me.
If anything, it was a mix of goodwill and competitive spirit.
...Even so, shoving her butt at me felt a bit excessive.
“To begin with, why provoke the Grand Duke Zahav, who's been behaving himself so well?! Unlike me, you've witnessed firsthand what the previous Grand Duke Zahav did at a banquet back in the day!”
“Don't get so upset, niece dear. Unlike the previous one, the current Grand Zahav seems relatively sane. And more than that...”
“More than that?”
“A man who might finally be stronger than me has appeared, and he's a decent one too. I can't just let him slip away.”
“So it really was because of that vow to marry only a man stronger than yourself that you've stayed single?!”
“Fortunately, our little Zahav doesn't seem to mind. Of course, whether he's truly stronger than me is something we'll have to find out from here on.”
Adriana looked up at me and winked playfully.
“So? What will you do? I allowed a little taste since you took down Wild Hunt even with another grand duke's help... but if you're curious for more, a training ground date is non-negotiable—not here in the banquet hall.”
“Hah, really.”
It was absurd, but I could roughly understand her situation.
From the brief rundown of imperial politics I'd learned, Adriana, having reached the Swordmaster realm, was an indispensable figure, naturally surrounded by rumors and records.
In a way, it was a common tale.
A noble's duty in this world wasn't just protecting those beneath them.
Passing on power through blood—to leave many heirs for the sake of Bloodline Abilities and bequeath the position to the most outstanding one was another prime duty.
But Adriana, having ascended to the exalted Swordmaster realm, possessed exceptional talent matched by an equal obsession.
To focus on the sword, she'd rejected suitors and family pressures with a public vow.
That only a man stronger than her could marry her.
A vow made before the gods in the northern Pantheon, impossible to break lightly.
Thanks to that, Adriana could devote herself to the sword as desired... and reached Swordmaster.
Becoming an idol for countless noblewomen was a bonus.
But now at the peak and with age catching up, she seemed interested in marriage.
Yes, truly not uncommon at all.
The case of someone single-mindedly focused on work in youth, then frantically seeking a match upon aging.
Just one lingering question remained.
“Adriana. Now that I know who you are, I get the gist... ”
“Yes. Getting to know each other is important. What's on your mind?”
“I won't turn down rice cake rolling my way, but... if you fancy a man stronger than yourself, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor is right there—even if it's not me.”
“...”
“...”
Cornelia and Adriana clamped their mouths shut, staring at me as if I were something incomprehensible.
Cornelia spoke cautiously.
“Um. Aunt is Aunt, you know? Among Father's wives is my mother, Aunt's twin sister.”
“What's wrong with twin sister rice bowl? Sounds great to me.”
“Eh?”
Cornelia froze solid. Seeing her genuine disgust, it clicked.
“Oops. His Majesty is quite advanced in age. Shame his Swordmaster youthfulness is wasted.”
“N-no, that's not what I meant. The two sisters... Ah, it's Grand Duke Zahav. Never mind. Yeah.”
Cornelia brushed it off awkwardly, and I tilted my head briefly. But the question lingered.
“Then what about the next emperor?”
“Pardon?”
“Boy or girl, whoever it is—if it's a man, wouldn't the crown prince make a fine groom?”
“...”
Cornelia, now silent, shot Adriana a desperate, pleading look.
Meeting her niece's gaze, Adriana opened her mouth with resolute expression.
“Little Zahav. No matter who the next emperor is, it'll be a child like Cornelia here—my niece, whom I've watched toddle around since infancy. I can't marry someone like that.”
“Raised catches are fine too...”
“...Just to be sure, what do you mean by 'raised catch'?”
“Raise 'em up and eat 'em.”
“...”
This time, it was Adriana's turn to fall silent.
An incomprehensible reaction from my perspective.
Wasn't this a fairly common trope? I'd failed at it myself, but it was on par with the cliché of a wastrel getting exiled from the family.
As I blinked in confusion, Adriana let out a short sigh and muttered.
“Yes. Zahavs are Zahavs, after all.”
“???”
This world still had far too many incomprehensible things.
The Emperor of the Empire.
Most dignified on the continent, humanity's final bastion, descendant of heroes, king of kings, and so on.
Called by every title imaginable, but in this moment, he existed simply as Cornelia's father—an old man.
Wilfried Ortenzia gazed down at the frozen banquet hall and spoke in a casual tone.
“The current Zahav... is quite the peculiar fellow.”
Radiant golden hair. Tanned skin. Bulging muscles and naturally rising heat.
Features identical to the previous and prior Grand Dukes Zahav, whom he'd observed over long years defending the throne.
If there was a difference, Enoch's were far more intense.
Heard to be a bastard, yet the blood manifested even thicker.
Each region of the continent had its customs.
The south valued strength, the west magic, the north faith.
The center prized the purity of one's blood.
In that sense, Emperor Wilfried, pinnacle of central nobility, unconsciously rated Enoch highly.
...And grew wary in equal measure.
According to Cornelia's report, he'd proven Bloodline Ability rivaling the first Grand Duke Zahav via the Blue Blood artifact at the succession rite.
The Zahavs, growing ever more troublesome, normalizing just before cutoff was most welcome.
But not grounds for complacency.
Wilfried knew the Zahavs well. All too well.
Having experienced firsthand their impulsiveness, violence, and beastly pride, he worried.
Someday, Cornelia might have her nape torn out by a beast she mistook for leashed.
“I know the quarrels are intensifying... but I hope it doesn't make them hasty.”
As a statesman and emperor, his duty was separate from his equal, unyielding love for all his children.
An uncontrollable entity like Zahav inevitably bred anxiety over variables.
He could only hope it wouldn't lead to the worst.
He had preparations, albeit insufficient.
Upon hearing of Wild Hunt's virtual annihilation—the first such calamity quelled in imperial history—he'd launched an investigation into Enoch.
From Calypso Territory to the short duel at the city gates' end.
Wilfried reviewed every scrap of intel personally before concluding.
“The current Zahav is already mad. Merely in a different direction from the previous.”
Women, violence, money—these might pique Enoch's interest but not drive him to frenzy.
Black mages, honor, injustice were different.
His upbringing diverged the path, but Enoch bore the Zahav madness.
Unlikely, but should any child ally with black mages or partake in dishonor and injustice...
A grand duke might rebel against the imperial house for the first time in history.
...A conclusion no one questioned, for Enoch was unmistakably Zahav.
Enoch's acting thus far had meaning.
Gazing down at the banquet hall for a long while, Wilfried observed Enoch giggling with Cornelia and Adriana tucked under his arms.
When Enoch roughly kneaded Adriana's butt, he shook his head as if witnessing something unseemly.
“Tch, tastes.”
Aged he might be, but born of the empire's strongest lineage and acclaimed the greatest of his era to claim the throne, Wilfried saw through Adriana's ploy(?).
From his seat, the old monster rose to rescue the youth who might become his future son-in-law and the empire's new hero.
“Time to make my entrance.”
Wilfried gave his ornate dress uniform a final check.
Too focused on Enoch and Cornelia, he hadn't spared a thought.
For the significance of black mages lurking in the capital, the empire's heart.
Unlike the palace blazing like daylight from the banquet, an academy shrouded in silent darkness.
The dorms, usually filled with students' groans from exam stress, lay hushed.
An eerie stillness, as if everyone had vanished.
Amid it, one sound alone echoed.
Thump.
A heartbeat too alien to be human.