Revenge Heroine and the Poisoned Chalice, The Point of No Return... (2)
Emilia immediately declared her intent to set off for the Melrn Count's territory without delay. She had never once forgotten the hatred and rage from that day—not for a single day. Now that the identity of her sworn enemy had been revealed with near certainty, she had no intention of wasting another moment.
"...Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Nope."
Terry's offer earned a curt response from Emilia. He managed a wry smile at her instant reply but said nothing more. He simply asked her to wait just a moment before leaving the room.
And shortly after, he returned—carrying two transparent glass tumblers and, in his other hand, that special liquor he'd fought so hard to reclaim from her grasp just the day before.
"Ter—Guild Master, that's..."
"Quiet. ...This might be the last time, y'know."
He set the glasses on a shelf in the corner of the room and, just as he always did when preparing drinks for her, added ice before pouring the liquor generously into both. Filling them to the brim, Terry carried the glasses back to the table where Emilia sat.
"Just one drink."
"...Cheapskate."
"It's expensive stuff."
Even in a moment like this, his gruff quip made her chuckle despite herself. And for all his talk, he'd filled the far-from-small glasses right up to the top.
Clink—Emilia and Terry touched their glasses together and downed the beautifully hued contents in one long gulp. No words, no toast. Just a silent farewell, drained in a single breath.
...Whew. The liquor was truly exquisite. Even she, who knew little of fine drinks, couldn't help thinking, Ah, this is something special...
"...Thank you, Terry. For everything, all this time."
Clink... Emilia set her now-empty glass—ice alone remaining—down on the table and stood immediately, heading for the door. A quick stop at her lodging to pack lightly, and she'd be off to the Melrn Count's territory. Whether things went well or not, she probably wouldn't be returning to this guild...
Thank you, Terry. Really, thank you.
...And I can never forgive you, Melrn Count.
――And shortly after the heroine departed.
Creeeak...
"She's gone, she's gone♪"
Opening the inner door, the succubus Mona entered the room where Terry now sat alone—back in her human disguise, as usual. In her hand was a small clay jar, just big enough to fit in her palm, which she toyed with by rolling it around her fingers. It was empty now, its contents spent.
What it had held was a special brew of poison laced with a unique curse. Every drop had been poured into the liquor Emilia had just drunk, mixing seamlessly.
"Hehe...♪ I wonder what'll happen now...♪"
Terry showed no reaction to Mona's entrance, his eyes distant and glazed. She stroked his chin teasingly, smacking her lips as she recalled the heroine who'd just stormed off.
Her task was complete. All that remained was to return to her Master—the Melrn Count—and prepare for tonight's impending raid.
Ah, this is gonna be so exciting...♡
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――Deep into the night, late hours.
A pitch-black sky, as if the heavens themselves conspired to aid Emilia—the moon hidden from view. Dressed like a thief in light garb and a hood concealing her face, she slipped into a massive mansion under cover of darkness.
Shh—thud... Killing all sound, she moved like the wind, vaulting the high stone wall and landing softly in the inner courtyard.
She scanned for presences nearby, but it seemed empty. Steadying her tension-frayed breathing, Emilia proceeded cautiously across the courtyard.
...Here at last... Melrn Count's mansion...
Smooth sailing so far...
She'd arrived in the territory before sunset and scouted the mansion's layout from outside. A visual inspection alone, but with her magic-enhanced eyesight, it was enough.
The lord's quarters would be the top floor, obviously.
Sneak into the bedroom. ...If I can face him alone there.
As both heroine and a powerful adventurer, she could handle a dozen or so of the lord's guards without issue. But she wanted to avoid a commotion if possible. Hatred aside, she still couldn't fully believe the unbelievable info from Guild Master Terry. Was it really true...?
So she wanted to meet him face-to-face. Talk, even a little. If he truly was the villain, he'd never answer honestly. Even so... even so, Emilia still wanted to believe in the remnants of human conscience.
"...?"
About to infiltrate the mansion proper, she paused at an odd unease, leaning against the wall and rubbing her exposed midriff.
...What is this... That weird feeling since earlier...
A tickle in her lower belly? Or like something scratching inside—scrape, scrape. Ever since leaving the guild that afternoon, something felt off. No... definitely since drinking that liquor...
"Hm...?"
A faint glow from below her chest, around her lower abdomen. But it vanished instantly, leaving her to dismiss it as imagination.
Had her prominent breasts not obstructed her view, had she a mirror handy, she might have noticed the eerie tattoo emerging faintly on her lower belly—like a stylized womb...
Hm... Feels okay now.
Just nerves. Yeah, no problem.
Let's do this...!
Soundless as before, Emilia slipped into the mansion like a gust of wind—swift and light.
Thud, flop...!
"Haaah... Good..."
Infiltrating the Melrn Count's mansion triumphantly was one thing, but she couldn't evade every patrolling soldier and servant indefinitely. Despite her best efforts, she'd crossed paths with two unlucky guards—dispatching them in an instant before sighing in relief.
She tossed their unconscious forms into a nearby small room. No commotion now.
...Still, plenty of people wandering at this late hour.
And those soldiers just now... Something off about them.
No time for close inspection amid the takedown, but the servants she'd spied earlier—and these guards—gave an inorganic vibe. Patrolling tirelessly without a hint of drowsiness, passing each other without chit-chat or greeting. Too diligent... unnaturally so.
...Ever since entering this mansion, my skin's been prickling... weird vibes all around...
But man, this place is huge.
...Maybe just paranoia. Yet the mansion felt several times larger than her external recon suggested. By her original plan, she'd be at the Count's bedroom by now—instead, she was lost, stalled in some hallway.
The Count was a mage and magical artisan. No doubt he'd rigged the place with tricks.
――Too hasty. Her rage had narrowed her thinking—she had to admit it.
No overt magical traps yet, but anything could've triggered the moment she infiltrated. She'd fixated solely on confronting the Count; now, these hitches and unease gave her breathing room to think broader.
For an all-or-nothing mission like this, she should've been more cautious, more planned. Her actions were wrong. Foolish. Undeniable facts, which Emilia accepted clearly.
But acceptance didn't breed regret. Even if sent back in time, she'd act the same. Foolish or not.
Already inside, retreat wasn't an option. From here on, she'd move carefully, methodically—room by room, until she found the bedroom—
Step, step.
Someone... coming?!
Emilia held her breath, darting into the room where she'd stashed the guards and pressing her ear to the door.
Footsteps. But bold, unhesitant—unlike the servants she'd encountered. Armor would've made soldiers' steps heavier, yet these shoes...
Creeeak—To avoid detection, she eased the door open as the steps receded. Just a crack. Enough to peek through.
――And there he was.
Illuminated by the sporadic magical lamps lining the dim corridor: a sturdy back. Taller than her father, Edgar Edenberts, by a clear margin. Only a receding silhouette down the hall, but that was enough.
More than enough to recognize.
Years since that day, yet never forgotten—not for a single day. The man who haunted her dreams, dredging up those horrors. The root of it all—who'd twisted her life, murdered her father, defiled her mother.
No mistake. That man.
He's right there.