The Soul Trap Ring

A woman of enormous stature appeared—two full meters of grotesque, corded muscle from head to toe.

The problem was what came out of her mouth.

"Tersha! Did you come to join the ball too? I didn't think you had any interest in this sort of thing."

There was no need to look any closer. That muscle-bound woman was an acquaintance of Tersha—the very person Lola was disguised as. Which meant X's entire con was about to be blown wide open.

Was this even in the original novel...?!

X did his best to feign composure, but it wasn't coming easily. If it weren't for the effect of his title, Foie Gras, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he might have fainted on the spot.

"Ah—uh—ah."

Lola, however, was another story. She was just a kid playing at arrogance. She had zero immunity to this kind of crisis. In fact, she was on the verge of passing out right then and there.

"Tersha! Your friend's here and you're just going to ignore me like that?"

The muscle-bound woman gave them no time to think. She sat down beside Lola as if it were the most natural thing in the world, plucked a pastry from the spread in front of them, and went on talking as she ate.

"Last time I tried to talk you into coming, you brushed me off—never figured you'd sneak in on your own. Then again, given your standing, I suppose I get it. You still could've told me, though. Right, Tersha?"

The sight of her eating the refreshments with such polite, measured manners—so utterly at odds with her appearance—only doubled the terror. Lola could do nothing but stare at X with watering eyes.

Do something!

Just give me a second!

X wrung his brain for everything it was worth, but a workable way out was hard to find. The biggest problem was that he had no idea who this woman even was.

If she's not in the original or the setting notes, there's no way for me to know!

Thanks to his Knowledge stat, he remembered nearly every setting and plot point from the original novel. Until now, he had built his cons on the back of that memory. But when something simply wasn't there, he had no foundation to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠work from.

Play dumb and run? We still haven't gotten the invitation. Stall for time? Stall how?

A dozen thoughts flashed through his mind in a single instant—but the muscle-bound woman moved first.

"Hey, Tersha. Why aren't you answering?"

She wiped the pastry crumbs from her fingers with a handkerchief, then took hold of Lola's shoulder. The touch of a trained martial artist, even just a hand on a shoulder, told her a great deal—and one of those things was fatal for X and Lola.

"Why are you shaking like this? Are you sick?"

Genuine concern colored her voice as she studied Lola's face. The one stroke of luck was that Lola's current appearance was close enough to the Tersha this woman remembered. But that luck did not last long.

"Hm? Something's off…"

She noticed the dissonance in the transformation magic...!

Just as X feared, the woman had picked up on the uncanny discrepancy of the disguise spell. Her hand drifted naturally toward Lola's face. Lola was a breath away from bursting into tears.

This is it!

The worst crisis became an opening.

"Miss, I believe laying a hand upon my lady's person would be a breach of courtesy."

At those words, the woman's hand stopped. A reasonable objection was enough to make anyone second-guess their own actions.

"And just who the hell are you?"

But the feeling that followed such a check was different for every person. In this woman's case, it was rage.

"Is a mere attendant interrupting my reunion with an old friend?"

Her gaze was thick with killing intent—intense enough to stop a weaker heart cold. But her opponent was X. He was already stitching a story together at speed.

"As the one who serves my lady, I have no choice but to put her safety and health first. I beg you to forgive the discourtesy that follows from that duty."

"Are you saying I'm harming Tersha's health right now? A servant, daring to pass judgment on me?"

The seated woman rose, her muscles swelling as she stood. The sheer pressure of her presence filled the room.

Wait, that's how you're twisting this?

Having her attention on him was good. What he needed now was another scheme to keep this flash of wit from dying on the vine.

First, take the initiative.

Lose control of a conversation and you get dragged wherever the other person wants. X decided to take back the ground he had lost. He dropped to one knee at once—a motion that was at once groveling and precise, perfectly natural.

"Please, I beg you to set aside your anger. How could I possibly presume to judge you, miss? I offered counsel only as an attendant, nothing more."

"If you're a servant, then act like one. Shut your mouth and stay down. Who asked you to stick your nose in?"

It wasn't working. She was in no state for a rational conversation. At this rate, nothing he said would land. He had considered subduing her by force, but one look at that physique made it obvious that was impossible.

If I just had one more thing to work with...!

That was when it happened.

"...Koff."

Lola covered her mouth and let out a low cough. That small sound rang through a room packed tight with pressure—and then her voice followed, cool and unbroken.

"What a racket. That is quite enough of threatening this lady's attendant."

The tone was high-handed and full of breeding. Compared to the Lola who usually whined with her nose in the air, it was like listening to a completely different person.

"My throat has been poor from coughing, so I have left most of my communication to my attendant. Marlene. Do you mean to silence this lady as well?"

At those words, and at the authority in her eyes, the muscle-bound woman called Marlene shrank back a little. Her manner grew more careful than before.

"No—that wasn't what I meant. I was just so glad to see you, I…"

"It has indeed been a year since we last met at the Levrant Banquet, so this lady is glad as well. Koff… But I can speak no further. From here on, address yourself to my attendant."

The moment Marlene hesitated and her gaze left Lola, Lola shot X a look.

I—I'm at my limit!

Astonishly, Lola had wrung every last drop of composure from a crushing wave of pressure and tension, and she had put on a performance. And the performance itself had been better than he would have expected.

Nobles take all kinds of lessons from the time they're small, sure… Come to think of it, when Professor Roxwell was terrorizing the students, the only one who ever talked back was Lola.

For someone who looked the way she did, that kind of nerve was a surprise. And thanks to that nerve, the current of the conversation had shifted. X did not let it slip.

"Given the circumstances, Miss Marlene, should you require anything, please do not hesitate to call on me."

"...All right. Sorry I lost my temper over nothing."

Marlene sat back down. There was a trace of apology on her face. She no longer looked inclined to make a scene. She changed the subject as if nothing had happened.

"So. What wind blew you in here all of a sudden?"

Her eyes cut toward X. Permission to speak. X settled his thoughts before he answered.

The fact that she's here means she's planning to attend the masquerade too. If we're unlucky, we might run into her again there.

What he needed now was information. The trick was to extract it without crossing Marlene's temper. And for that, there was a basic technique.

"My lady's reason for attending the ball is the same as yours, Miss Marlene. I expect most of the guests are coming for a similar purpose."

That technique was pretending you already know.

Back in his editor days, talking with a considerable number of writers, X had noticed one thing they all had in common. Most of them, when they asked a question, didn't actually know what answer they wanted—they just asked anyway. And every time, X would say:

I think proceeding in the direction you had in mind would be best, sir!

There was no way to know what the other person had actually been thinking. But answer like that, and most of them would walk away convinced they had been understood. After which they would say something like—

"I knew it. You heard the news too, that that item is coming out this time. I hear the hosts actually put in the work for this ball."

—exactly like that.

He had no idea what "that item" was supposed to be. What he did know was that it was important information he didn't have.

Did anything like that even come up in the original? No. It didn't. Keep playing along.

"That's correct. My lady is attending for that very reason."

"Heh. She acts like such a proper young lady, and behind closed doors she'll do anything and everything. That's why she's my friend. Ah—but you've never actually seen it, have you? The hosts sent over a sample…"

Here it comes.

Luck was with him. Marlene, happily filling in her own assumptions, started rummaging in her coat for something.

I have to get a look at this.

Whatever the object was, it would tell him how to handle what came next.

If it's the worst-case scenario, I may have to sabotage the ball itself—even if that means a terrorist attack.

Among the masquerades mentioned in the original, there were disasters of the worst kind. This lead mattered. He watched, taut with tension, as Marlene started to draw the object out—

"Thank you for waiting. I shall present you with your invitation."

Bald opened the door and walked in. At the sudden intrusion, Marlene tucked the object back into her coat.

Ah, damn it!

He could have burst a blood vessel, but he couldn't afford to show it—not if the act was going to hold.

"...Right. Good work."

X and Lola accepted the "invitation" Bald held out.

So it is this after all.

A ring made of gold. On the surface, it was the most ordinary gold ring imaginable. Of course, X knew exactly what it was.

Anyway, we got the goods. I'd like to dig for more information, but I can't risk any more than this. Lola looks like she's at her limit too.

X wrapped the ring in a handkerchief, slipped it into his coat, and rose from his seat. Lola rose lightly after him.

"The hour is late, so we shall take our leave, miss."

"We'll pretend we know each other at the ball."

Marlene saw them off as if nothing in the world were amiss. X and Lola left the Ring Circle Hideout ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at a pace that was neither hurried nor slow.

"Hmph."

The gaze Marlene turned on their retreating backs was strange in the extreme.

"My lady, you're heavy."

"...I said I can't feel my legs!"

Once they had put enough distance between themselves and the hideout, X was carrying Lola on his back toward the academy dormitory. She had been so tightly wound that her legs had given out on the way, which left the relatively intact X to haul her along—with a running stream of furious complaining in his ear as a bonus.

"You're even lower than a commoner! Worse than a bug! Worse than a demon! You're like the Demon King's toenail gunk!"

"If I'm the Demon King's toenail gunk, doesn't that make me pretty strong?"

"...Shut up!! Watch where you're going! If anyone sees us out like this in the middle of the night, I'm finished in high society!"

"We have perception-blocking magic. Don't worry about it."

X took the chance to ask something he'd been curious about.

"That was a good performance back there. Where did you learn to act like that?"

"Do you think nobles just eat well and live well and that's it? Receiving every kind of education so you can live up to the rights you hold is basic cultivation."

"There are plenty of nobles who don't, though…"

"That's their problem!"

X found himself feeling oddly proud of her. This was an age when she ought to have wanted nothing more than to play, and yet her whole life was bound up in education and duty. The stress of that couldn't have been small.

"Well. I'll take good care of you from now on."

"What's that supposed to mean, 'take good care of me'! You commoner!"

Lola huffed and puffed for a good while, then went limp against his back and opened her mouth again.

"So what is this ring, anyway? This is the invitation? You just put this on and you can go to the masquerade?"

It was a fair question. The gold ring the two of them had received looked perfectly ordinary. Nothing about it suggested it was special in any way. X answered evenly.

"It's called a Soul Trap Ring."

"A Soul Trap Ring? What's that? I've never heard of it."

"Well, it's an artifact with a number of functions. But the point is simple."

X drew the ring from his coat and turned it over in his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fingers as he spoke.

"Anyone wearing this, you can consider a demon."

That was a secret of the demons—one that, at this point in time, not a single soul on the human side had ever learned.