Chapter 14
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: 1.5 - 1 + 1 (1)
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The sword strike falling from the zenith of the sky wasn't actually the first time.
"What? What do we do? Gonna hole up here forever?"
"...I'm going."
"Yeah. This'll be clean."
Because we'd already cleared the fight event, one of the conditions for becoming real friends.
Thinking back to our clash over differing opinions during the Holy-Demon War, it was enough to make anyone wonder if this guy was a friend or a foe.
When tensions peaked, I could say it with certainty because I'd experienced the holy sword's maximum output for real.
This.
'How badly does he want to beat the crap out of me.'
『Great Severing - Human』
This secret technique was originally a strike along a line, not a flat surface.
The original form focused solely on slashing.
That's why it didn't cause the air to roar with winds from all directions, crushing the atmosphere.
Of course, everyone who'd taken it head-on except me had died, so there was no one to argue otherwise.
In other words, he'd deliberately thrown off the sword ki. Less like swinging a sword and more like swinging a club.
'What the...'
You can't slice with preliminary motions using a sword, so beating me with a club instead made my head throb.
Whether sword or club, getting hit by a swordmaster at the peak was instant death either way.
"Unfortunately, you look perfectly fine."
Duke Baltar de Astria's deep voice flowed out, half-joking, half-serious.
This was life or death for me—I'd used every means available to block it—and now he says that? Highly problematic.
"Sorry, but I'm only intact on the outside right now."
It hadn't been long since I'd used the miracles of the six gods, so my body was a wreck. Shouldn't blocking a healthy swordmaster's strike earn me praise instead?
"You looked too pristine for a thief, that's all."
He must've mistaken my survival signal for exaggeration.
As the duke gathered aura again with those words, I waved my hands frantically and stepped back.
"Sorry, but—"
"That was a joke."
"..."
Which beat am I supposed to dance to here? Driving me insane.
"Son-in-law, how should I address you? Deputy Director? Or scion of a noble house?"
"...Call me the latter for now, please."
In the midst of it, noticing "prospective" had vanished sent chills down my spine.
Was that last strike a real test?
'What happens if he finds out it's fake...'
First, I'd be bisected. Then sunk into some nameless strait.
Or turned into high-grade fertilizer. Neither ending appealed.
'Poisoned chalice.'
I regretted letting the fake engagement shield blind me.
The storytelling about trying it for a year and it not working out was crumbling in real time.
"From now on, I'll drop the formalities. How far have things progressed?"
"..."
Duke. Be honest. You just want to beat me up, don't you?
Of course, blurting that out would earn me a thrashing, so I clamped my mouth shut.
"Nothing's happened between us as man and woman yet."
"Yet?"
"Th-that is, nothing until marriage, yes."
The sudden blunt interrogation dried my throat. Should I just confess it's a sham engagement now?
I'd get beaten badly, but at least not cast adrift at sea. Things had piled up, but only three days had passed.
So, open my lips. Murmur the truth softly.
"You see, I'm in a bit of a bind myself."
I twirled my silver-white hair around my finger. A shy, beaming smile.
"Could you pretend to be engaged to me for just a year? I'll handle explaining it to your parents later."
Memories have fuzzy borders. Sometimes vivid, but one step away and they vanish.
"Why the long face again? Ruining that handsome visage."
That's why.
"So, what is it about my daughter that you like?"
"...There are so many things, I don't know where to start."
People change. You can't be tied down forever.
What beastly thinking.
No, not beastly—straight-up beast.
I'd used an innocent girl for my own gain. Seemed like a safe bet she wouldn't cross any lines.
"Men with lecherous thoughts spout that line often."
"Your Grace. I swear on the name of God as a priest—"
"That's exactly what I said to your mother-in-law."
...Duke. Self-deprecating gag at this timing? How should I react?
"Be more specific, then. But spare me the 'nice personality' bit."
"..."
"I said that plenty too."
"Then I only have one thing to say."
If I had to pick the truest words.
"She matches my ideal type. What man wouldn't be smitten seeing Lady Lucia?"
Looks, heart, values—everything included.
"Of course, she's of marriageable age as a lady, but with our age gap, she still looks like a child to me—"
Poke!
...?
Not sure if it was aftereffects from my battered body, but I'd just sensed a faint presence.
No way. Has to be a mistake, right?
"...Looks like you just noticed."
Damn it. Was this planned too?
Turning my gaze, a woman wrapped head to toe in white fur clothes held a fairly large basket. Steam rising in the winter chill suggested freshly made food.
Her hair was silver-white like falling snow, eyes like the blue sky.
Identical to Duke Baltar de Astria before me—no denying it now.
"You must be hungry, so I brought some food."
Lucia de Astria said, face flushed, with a shy smile.
"And... I heard everything. Yes... "
"..."
"Why is it so hot in here... "
Ah.
No booze, and I already had a black history moment.
◆
Two days before Daniel's black history was born.
Clap clap clap!
Applause echoed from the communication orb.
- Congratulations on the successful engagement! Shall I send a gift?
"..."
- Though it's fake for now.
Irene Restain's sultry voice emanated from the pink-glowing orb.
Lucia suppressed the urge to smash it.
"I have a question."
- I know. But I can't answer from my mouth. Yes.
"...You know what I'm going to say?"
- What? Curious why he did that at the end?
Right before she'd mustered courage to suggest dancing, the orb had blazed black.
"Miss Lucia, sorry, mind if I step out for a bit?"
The emotion in his words.
Indefinable, endlessly deep and heavy—her first glimpse of his true heart.
She desperately wanted to know what it was.
- Nothing as meaningless as cribbing from an answer sheet on a test.
Her sensual voice rang from the orb.
- What? You'll scrape by somehow, but not a future I'd recommend. Want a peek?
"No thanks."
- Hm. Hm. As expected of the perfect Lady Lucia.
Pfft. Laughter burst out.
- Ah, that was fun. Nothing beats a love story. Tainting and being tainted—that's life.
"Cut the side chatter and get to the point."
- Guilt.
Plop.
She dropped the answer.
- Use it. That man's head is about to explode soon. His defenses are weakening.
Wounds eventually heal. As long as you don't die, keep living, humans always stand back up.
- He's probably thinking: 'She looks like a kid to me, but she's legally an adult. Wait, am I even right to use her for my sake?'
"How did you—"
- 'Did I mess up with this fake engagement? No, change is good. Should I tell her the truth?' Surprising, right? All those worries behind that heavy face.
"...Did you read his mind or something?"
- Yes. We've merged once. Seen each other's rock bottom, you could say. Oh, don't misunderstand. I hate that man. More than you can imagine.
The sudden disgust halted Lucia's lips.
Less hatred toward an enemy, more outright rejection of the man himself.
- Don't doubt me over stuff like that, or I won't help. Ever.
"Fine. So what do I do next?"
- Actually, nothing much this time.
She flashed a cute wink through the orb.
And dropped a surprisingly bland conclusion.
- You cook well, right? Perfect and omnipotent lady that you are.
Sudden topic shift.
Her cooking experience topped out at pastries and baking. Nothing else.
Raised in a ducal estate with resident top chefs, most time spent with swords.
A trial thrust at her, utterly unrelated—Lucia froze.
- You'll pick it up fast anyway.
- Just say to your future mother-in-law, 'I want to cook for him myself—could you help?' Mix in some charm, even better.
- And this is aside, but Lucia dear, you act disinterested, but really, feeding each other is—
"Stop! It's embarrassing—stop reading my mind!"
Even hurling the orb onto the bed in shame, Irene kept going.
- Not mind, desires. Further, the future, Miss Lucia.
"..."
- And you're a latecomer. Think no one's pulled a number ticket and staked claim by his side? Really? You fell in just three days?
"That's not— ...Could you just be quiet?"
Lucia truly found her annoying. Would've slapped her if nearby.
◆
"W-Will you have some~?"
So, um. Situation explained.
My fake fiancée, six years younger, face beet red.
Holding her handmade sandwich in her own hand.
Trying to feed it to me. Directly.
"...Getting embarrassed now. Could you just eat once, please?"
No choice—I opened my mouth and chomped the sandwich.
...Shrimp and egg seasoned just right. Perfect for my taste.
"Learned from Mother. Does it suit you?"
"...Yes. You're skilled at cooking too."
"Then one more bite."
This one stuffed with pork stir-fry. Picnic staple from childhood.
Obviously, no choice for me. Bolting mid-waltz hands the lead to your partner.
So I devoured all the sandwiches in seconds. Like a baby bird fed by its mother.
Now, a question here.
"............"
Describe the father's feelings watching all this.
"W-Would you like to try this too?"
"...!$^&$...#@"
...Even fruit for dessert.
This is definitely gonna give me indigestion.