Chapter 21
Chapter 21
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Succubus
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Random event if you take carriage near Bondalles.
If there's a low mental magic resistance female char on the carriage with this guy, chance she gets mind-controlled.
[There were signs.]
"Why are you suddenly yelling!?"
"I'm not yelling—it's because you won't answer me—"
"Then couldn't you think to talk later?"
[It was the first time.]
[Her making that face while looking at him.]
"What?"
"You're talking about Mr. Eron. I'm listening intently, so why butt in? You're just gonna say something lame anyway."
"Wh-what? Why are you talking like that!?"
"See, yelling again. So undignified... Whatever. Just get to the point. Can't you see Mr. Eron's paying attention to us?"
"Ah. I'm fine. She must have important business. Please don't mind me—carry on with your talk. You're companions, right?"
"See? So kind... So, what was that important talk?"
[It was the first time.]
[Her making that face while looking at someone else.]
"I wanted to discuss who's taking night watch tonight..."
"...Annoying. That's what it was? If it's so important, you take it."
"I took it yesterday."
"Then how about the two of us take night watch tonight?"
"What!? No! It's my job—Mr. Eron doesn't need to help!"
"No. It doesn't suit my temperament to rest easy while a hardworking lady stands watch."
"How... how can you be so different..."
"Now that night watch is settled, back to our talk—ah, maybe we should move somewhere else?"
[It was the first time.]
[Seeing her normally vacant eyes so clear.]
[As if enchanted by something.]
[Not just her.]
[The whole group was acting enchanted by him.]
[Everyone except himself.]
[As if left all alone.]
[He thought it was an illusion.]
[He thought it would pass with time.]
[...Unaware that catastrophe had already arrived.]
Beautiful looks? Great.
Pair that with an affable personality? Perfect.
They brighten the atmosphere just by existing.
A man whose beauty suited the word "beautiful" more than "handsome"—Eron took the lead in conversation, and the carriage's mood livened up in an instant.
"I was planning to find a merchant carriage heading to Bondalles and take a guard job, but they all had owners already. Ended up spending money instead of earning during the trip."
"No wonder you looked out of sorts. That's the situation, huh. When I first saw you, I thought you were mercenaries."
"Hey, mercenaries? Mr. Eron! That's hurtful! Mistaking us for deadbeats."
They introduced themselves as the "Marik Party," adventurers based out of Bondalles.
As Marik mentioned, they were in foul moods when they boarded the carriage for some reason.
Metal armor and leather gear.
Well-maintained equipment, but their discomfort oozed out, creating maximum awkwardness.
But now, they beamed at Eron.
To them, Eron was inherently likable—
And not just because he was handsome.
"Now it's my turn to ask. Mr. Eron, what's your business in Bondalles?"
"An acquaintance of mine is hosting a social gathering and wants to introduce me to the attendees."
"Social gathering... Don't tell me, nobles—"
"Nothing like that. Just friends from the city who get along well, gathering together."
"...So, not all, but nobles do attend?"
"Probably. Considering the nature of his business—likely more nobles than commoners."
"..."
The adventurers' eyes sparkled at Eron's words.
Aspiration for high society. Awe. Anticipation.
Now was the time.
The adventurers cautiously voiced their first impressions of Eron.
"Being close friends with someone like that—you must be a noble too, Mr. Eron—"
"Haha, a noble? Do I look that impressive?"
A noble wouldn't travel alone in a rickety carriage like this.
His clothes were too plain for nobility.
Plus, a noble wouldn't treat adventurer scum so casually.
...Still, Marik's group had already half-decided inwardly.
Eron was a noble.
At least, a young master of equivalent high status.
After all, not all nobles were the same.
In this vast world, it wasn't strange for there to be one modest noble like Eron who treated adventurers without airs.
Especially that flashy beauty.
That aura of leisure and confidence.
If not a young noble lord, who was?
"Not really?"
"Who knows~"
"Well, let's leave it at that. You must have your reasons, Mr. Eron—er, Lord Eron."
"Haha, you're making me uncomfortable. As expected of adventurers?"
"Adventurers... Any history there?"
"My acquaintance said so. The hardest part of his business was dealing with adventurers. Sharper and quicker on the uptake than most merchants—talking to them felt blood-draining. I didn't get it then, but chatting with you now, Mr. Marik, I kinda see it."
"Hahaha! No intent to drain your blood, Mr. Eron."
From there, the Marik party's interest and affection toward Eron visibly sharpened.
Everyone gazed at him with sparkling eyes, hanging on his every move and word.
The carriage might as well have been his.
Eron smirked inwardly at their sight.
Kuk.
An unwittingly bright smile slipped out.
"Pardon? Did you say something, Mr. Eron—"
"Ah, nothing. Just a silly thought."
Eron genteelly covered his mouth with his hand.
Behind it, his lips twisted freely into an arc.
A vile smile unimaginable from his prior demeanor.
That was Eron's true face.
Eron savored this moment immensely.
Fools deluded by his facade, opening their hearts completely.
Especially—
"So, is Ms. Catherine Mr. Marik's lover?"
"What!? No, that's—"
"Uhahahaha!!! Marik, you're in trouble. Catherine's eyes are full hearts now?"
The sight of a woman forgetting the man who already had her heart, for him.
'Inferior, ugly things...'
Such moments solidified his convictions like nothing else.
All that remained was waiting for the seeds he'd planted to bear fruit.
They hadn't noticed, but they were already under his power.
The power of allure.
Eron planned to release them the moment his allure fully bloomed.
Those inferior things—the men, at least.
Then claim the woman before their recovered senses.
To instill defeat in those inferiors, and bask in ultimate pleasure.
"..."
Then.
Eron's attention shifted elsewhere.
"By the way, you two haven't said a word since earlier."
"Sorry. Are we being too loud?"
"Come on, join the chat. How rare is it to talk with someone like Mr. Eron?"
The Marik party addressed the other passengers.
A man and woman who seemed a pair. Since exchanging names with Eron at the start, they hadn't uttered a word.
Silent amid the chatter—
Plain gray robes with hoods up and heads down paradoxically drew the most eyes.
"Shall we?"
The man replied.
But Eron's gaze was on the woman.
"..."
Eron remembered the woman's face from their brief eye contact earlier.
Among many noble ladies and maids he'd seen, none had her fragile, mystical air.
Eron felt his lips and tongue dry.
But no need to rush.
First, grasp her relation to the man.
"Mr. Rishir, was it? What's your business in Bondalles, Mr. Rishir?"
"Various things—but let's say broadening my magical horizons for now."
Oh?
The Marik party looked at Rishir in surprise.
They continued the talk in Eron's stead.
"Mr. Rishir, you're a mage?"
"I'd like to say yes, but I'm still very lacking. I'm just trying to walk the path of magic. Otherwise, no way to earn a living."
"Kuk—no, why say it like—"
"What an amusing fellow."
"...?"
Eron felt dissonance at their friendly chat.
Showing interest in an inferior thing right in front of him.
Not petty arrogance.
The Marik party was under his allure's influence.
Not fully bloomed, but stable enough.
Normally, they shouldn't spare attention for anyone but him.
Eron realized belatedly.
'The power... vanished?'
The allure planted in them had faded at some point.
"Everyone, let's talk with me instead. Mr. Rishir looks like he wants to rest—"
"Oh, is that so? Mr. Rishir, did we bother you—"
"No. It's fine. Already leaning back—how much more rest can I get? Could lie on the floor if needed."
"No—Mr. Rishir... You're really a mage? Never met one as un-crotchety as you..."
"Proof I've far to go."
"...Uhahaha! What was that."
"Never thought I'd laugh at a mage's joke..."
Even as Eron spoke, the Marik party kept talking with Rishir.
Bondalles wasn't just for adventurers—many mages resided there.
As Bondalles adventurers, they knew how insufferable mages were.
That crotchetiness and arrogance rivaled nobles.
But look at Rishir now.
No trace of it.
Polite, even humble.
Moreover, his aura was extraordinary, not inferior to Eron's.
Not flashy enough to draw eyes just sitting there like Eron, but he exuded an innate dignity uncommon folk lacked.
The glossy brown hair?
Snow-white skin?
Vivid blue eyes?
Or that unique accent.
Where had he heard that accent before?
Marik's eyes widened as memory stirred.
"Mr., Mr. Rishir—if I may ask..."
Trembling voice.
"Ar-are you... the Rishir of some house... er, lord...?"
"Can't say the family name."
"...Why?"
"I'm a bastard."
"...Puhahahaha!!! "
The Marik party burst into laughter.
Taking Rishir's self-proclaimed bastardy as a joke.
How could any bastard smile and admit it like that?
Inferiority complex, compensation.
Bastards acted more arrogant and stubborn toward commoners than regular nobles.
They hid their status fiercely; acknowledged bastards flaunted family prestige.
"That laugh hurts a bit."
The opposite of this man, Rishir.
"Don't surrounding mages call you unique? Fun or whatever."
"Heard something like that."
In the end, Marik concluded Rishir wasn't a bastard.
Then what? Noble?
Noble mage?
With that personality?
Possible?
Marik's eyes gleamed brighter.
"Are you two traveling together?"
"Ah, actually one more in our party. Separated for... reasons."
"I see. Where'd you learn magic?"
"Luck ran into a great mentor—"
"Is the lady beside a mage too...?"
"Strange as a mage, so best keep distance."
"..."
"Uhahahaha!! Noted, sir!"
The carriage buzzed again.
Even more than with Eron.
"..."
Eron eyed them displeased.
Could the vanishing allure be that thing's doing?
'...No.'
No. Eron wielded magic too.
To him, Rishir's mana was negligible.
Far too weak to break his allure.
The woman beside too.
No mana from her.
Two meanings.
Mana too faint, or too vast.
Gazing at 4th circle, Eron dismissed the latter.
Then what?
Why'd my allure—
Anyway, irrelevant now.
Marik—and his lover Catherine—stolen by Rishir's interest.
Ignoring Eron up front.
Especially intolerable.
"By the way, you're adventurers?"
Above all, that accent grated most.
'That scum, real noble?'
Eron, striving to seem noble, could tell.
Rishir's casual accent and etiquette screamed nobility.
Inferiority. Defeat.
Before facing his ugly emotions, Eron extended a hand to Rishir.
"Mr. Rishir. A mage, huh. I'm on the magic path too—may I ask your school?"
To nitpick and belittle.
Further, dominate with allure to reaffirm superiority over the inferior.
Rishir clasped hands.
"School—dunno."
Eron's lip twitched, hiding a vile smile.
The moment he drew up his allure.
"?"
Eron blankly stared at his hastily withdrawn hand.
The glow in his golden hair slowly faded.