Chapter 148
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Self-Admiration and Narcissism -2-
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Leaving the imperial capital and skirting along the outer walls brought into view quite a few inns run by private owners.
Even though they lined the roadside traveled by carriages, they weren't safe from monster or beast attacks, so most were operated by retired adventurers or mercenaries.
As such, they had a precise grasp on the needs of the guests who sought out these places. Beyond mere lodging, some spots catered to those in the know, offering entertainment that only certain people were privy to.
For the recently troubled Leo Floyd, what he needed were women who would shake their hips and relieve his pent-up lust for a few coins, without any bothersome effort on his part.
"Hoo... This fucking sucks."
The place had been recommended by a friend with picky tastes, so it was certainly decent enough.
Unlike the shabby exterior of the rundown inn, there was a clean bathroom prepared for real customers.
They stocked fine liquors suited to noble palates, and the women were surprisingly firm and young for brothel girls.
Even surrounded by soft feminine flesh, drinking, and soaking in the hot water to loosen up, Leo's mood—sunken all the way to the depths—refused to lift.
Midway through the act, it felt less like making love and more like venting his lust and anger with a force bordering on rape.
The low pressure radiating from Leo made one of the women glance at him cautiously and ask.
"Young master... Is something wrong?"
At her words, Leo glared at her with fierce eyes and growled in a low voice.
"Shut your mouth. Don't try mixing words with your betters, just refill my drink."
"...S-Sorry."
In the silent bathroom, the young prostitute bowed her head obediently and filled his glass.
He took the brim-full cup and downed it in one go, the burn searing his throat.
"Phew—"
Leo, arm draped over the edge of the tub, exhaled alcohol-heavy breath as Eclair came to mind.
'I wonder if the captain even realizes it... But it's definitely more than just fondness. There's no doubt some feelings have taken root, even if slight.'
He tried to deny it, but knowing who the object was only made his irritation boil endlessly.
She had never shown the slightest wavering before, so even the tiniest crack stood out glaringly.
Behaviors he would normally ignore felt utterly out of place when they came from Eclair.
Lately, her frequent visits to the Adventurer's Guild.
He could somewhat understand chasing away her accompanying aides before entering as her own karma catching up.
But Leo, who fixated solely on Eclair during work, started noticing things he never saw before.
There was hesitation somewhere before she went in.
And that unmistakable, subtle atmosphere when she emerged after finishing her business at the guild.
For a fleeting instant, she looked like a young girl nursing her first innocent crush.
Then, the moment she faced the squad members waiting outside, she buried it deep.
'Nothing's crossed the line yet, no incidents...'
She was a knight who knew restraint, destined to lead House Dreitna in the future.
If she understood the value of her purity amid proposals from all the flying-high noble heirs.
He figured she wouldn't surrender her chastity to mere fondness.
But if time passed and the captain ended up sharing her body with that lowborn adventurer of lowly blood?
The mere thought ignited fury, making him want to swing his sword right then.
'...Can't even tail her without complications.'
Who would take a job investigating or sabotaging Eclair Dreitna? No one bold enough.
Even with pros and nondisclosure mana contracts, traces could be backtracked via ledgers, boxing him in.
Getting caught digging into one of the Five Knights? Even he wouldn't escape unscathed.
'I've got to do something.'
If the woman developed feelings first in a physical entanglement, time was of the essence.
His vision narrowed with that thought, no clear answer emerging.
Reaching for the glass beside him, Leo scowled at the empty vessel.
"Useless bitches, my glass is empty. Hurry up and fill it, or wha—...?"
Thud!
The women in the bathroom began stumbling and collapsing one by one.
The sight of people around him succumbing to magic like sleep paralysis was now familiar.
"...!"
Clink!
Grabbing his sword from the corner, Leo assumed a stance and scanned the room.
Dozens of black hands rose from the floor, lunging to seize him with immense strength and wrench the blade from his grip.
Crunch—crack—
"You fuckers!"
The black magic's power and range were issues, but the confined space with nowhere to dodge was the real blunder.
Unlike last time, he couldn't evade.
'How did they know I was here? Unless...!'
Maybe she'd done something to his body to track him.
Or the friend who recommended this place was suspect too.
Shlrk—
The black hands released Leo and retreated, politely returning his sword to a proper stance.
Emphasizing they meant no harm, a familiar woman approached.
"Oh dear~ Young master. No need to be so guarded. Hear us out."
Her gentle tone contrasted with the chilling glint in her eyes beneath the hood.
Gulp.
Rebellion meant instant death.
Leo swallowed dryly, rose, kicked aside the sleeping women, and sat at the table.
"...Why are you here?"
"To show you something interesting."
"Something...?"
Anything black mages called "interesting" spelled trouble.
The woman beckoned with a finger, and the man behind her stepped forward, offering a pitch-black pouch.
"Want to take a peek inside?"
With that coercive presence, refusal wasn't an option.
Ssshhk—
Untying the pouch released a puff of black magic mana.
"This pouch is quite the treasure itself—perfect for concealing black magic traces. Even Church folks wouldn't notice."
"'Wouldn't'?..."
Vague for a mage.
Inside lay a black orb, exuding such intense dread he hesitated to touch it.
He didn't know its purpose, but one thing sprang to mind first.
"How many... humans were used to make this?"
She giggled as if it were a clever question, covering her mouth.
"Oh my! Asking a black mage about sacrifices is like asking a woman her age."
"...Purpose?"
"Power."
A simple word, seductively stirring to any man.
But Leo scowled and raised his voice.
"Don't bullshit me! Isn't this the kind that turns you into a demon's thrall, losing your human form?"
Shaking with laughter at his outburst, the black mage eyed him like some backwater bumpkin out of touch.
"Ancient history... Nostalgic, even. Leo, right? Among those allied with us in the Empire, has anyone lost their human form? If issues arise, we fix it. Contracts included."
"...How far do your tentacles reach?"
"Can't tell you that yet, naturally. We just want to impress the next head of House Floyd."
"..."
Suspicious enough for an uneducated child to spot.
Yet to a man living in excess, suddenly cornered for the first time, it felt like a lifeline—a stroke of lightning luck.
Appearing right when he hit a wall and pondered solutions, they made him feel destined for greatness.
To thrive, he must claim what he desired—and right now, there was only one thing he'd ever truly wanted but couldn't have.
Now, it might slip to some lowly scum.
He'd stolen plenty in life, but losing the first woman he genuinely yearned for—with real intent—to another man?
He'd never endured it, but the thought alone threatened to burst his head.
Staring fixedly at the pouch's contents, Leo heard a seductive voice drift in.
"Only worthless lowborns with nowhere to go were used. For Leo, next head of Floyd, to wield it? What an honor, what joy!"
Within the black mass in her hand squirmed something formless like mist.
Imprisoned things wailing, screaming, seeming to lure him to free them.
Fear prickled from the creepy object; Leo averted his eyes.
"Ahem! Well, that's not entirely wrong, but..."
To Leo, still hesitant with revulsion, Ismay removed her hood, revealing her face.
"Hear my story first? If you refuse, we'll leave and never return."
After finishing and exiting the inn, Ismay boarded the Nematos carriage. Bernstein followed, closed the door, and spoke first.
"Lady Ismay..."
"Yes?"
"No matter how great 'that' is, can such a man take on the Five Knights?"
Ismay pondered Bernstein's question, then let out a small laugh.
"Pfft—As a black mage, it's regrettable I can't say for sure, but even with all luck, it'd be tough. Inflicting minor wounds would be fortunate."
"I think so too... But why the uncertainty?"
Tapping the window frame with sharp nails, Ismay countered with a question instead.
"Bernstein. When humans become demons or fiends via contracts or flesh, does their power depend solely on the demon's strength? Or the human's original prowess? Or base emotions? Or all?"
"...No one's certain yet."
Ismay's query was one of the great mysteries plaguing black mages outside the Black Circle, who dismissed demons.
"Hmm~ Wasn't asking for answers. That colt's chosen by our side somehow, so I expect the unexpected. Even average results suffice."
"True. Per your words, even failure makes a research subject... Long-term, we lose nothing regardless."
To topple great walls, haste was folly. Priority: tiny cracks everywhere, unnoticed.
For groups like theirs, plans spanned years minimum.
This act sowed seeds with no guaranteed bloom.
"Exactly~ That's enough for now. Rush, and you'll get tailed like Hell Broom."
Rike vanishing at lunch for "business" happened occasionally.
She'd leave for personal errands, return to the main building just before end, stoic-faced but somehow buoyant.
Asking casually where she'd been yielded only silence and smiles.
So Seria and she held back until Rike volunteered, but curiosity lingered.
'...As long as it's good news!'
If Rike returned glum or down, wouldn't that suffice?
The subtly uplifted Rike suddenly mentioned Brother.
-Saw the practical instructor en route earlier, playing with a cat. No class today?
Cloe nearly spun around but forced her steps toward the lecture hall for cadet duty.
'He's here today! No time now with class... How long will he stay?'
Cat meant she knew the spot.
After class, straight there, she thought, entering and taking a back seat near the door.
....
Racing to find Brother post-class revealed one thing.
Persuading others—especially men, blood kin aside—was uncharted for her, save Brother.
Even if needed, it required lengthy mental prep, scripted scenarios—daunting.
Yet here she was, winging it unprepared.
"Ah...!"
No cat, but right spot.
Brother lounging on the bench, yawning lazily, caught her eye. She hurried over.
Spotting her, he smiled and waved; she halted, bowed, then approached.
Glancing for onlookers, she wrapped the area in soundproofing mana.
"B-Brother... Have you been well?"
"Doing great. You, Cloe?"
"Thanks to you... First! I want to thank you for the overly generous gift...!"
Sword in hand, she'd have done house etiquette; as cadet, she bowed deeply, ash-gray hair cascading.
"No need to call it overly generous. I've got your feelings; lift your head, sit easy."
"Ah... Yes!"
His voice, laced with light mirth, had a relaxing magic.
"Wasn't cold taking it?"
"N-No, thanks to Sister... It was fine."
"Figures. Eclair's skill makes ice crystals a breeze."
Did Brother know how to aid ice crystal ingestion?
Replaying that scene dozens of times, her skin now tingled embarrassingly for the first time.
Pinching her hand to banish distraction, Cloe got to the point.
"And if you're not busy, after next practical... I'd like to treat you to dinner..."
No venue booked, no return gift bought.
Realizing the vagueness, she proposed a flexible time.
"Sounds good. No pressure as thanks; let's eat casually."
His light, positive reply eased her heart.
"...Yes!"