Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1.5
Chapter Title: Sylvia Basilissa
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Sylvia Basilissa.
A girl like a little sister whom I've known for over ten years now.
There were far too many thorny parts to recount the story of when I first met Sylvia.
From the troubles caused by black mages being black mages, to the muddy brawl tangled with grudges and vested interests from various families.
Sylvia was the wounded flower that had bloomed amid all that. Her growing up so well was nothing short of a miracle.
Leaving that unseemly past behind, Sylvia was entrusted to an orphanage along with the other children who'd been locked in the same lab after that day.
"...Hello."
"Sylvia, you need to use polite speech with people older than you."
"......Hello."
Those awkward days of childhood greetings were still vivid in my memory. Hugging her favorite bear doll tight and hiding behind the matron—she was awfully cute back then.
"Want some of this?"
"...!"
Every time I secretly slipped her chocolate or honey candies, her eyes would light up with life. She was such a cute kid that I wanted to pinch her cheeks.
"...Is it mine?"
"Yeah. It's your birthday present."
"...Sniff. Waaah!"
On her first tenth birthday at the orphanage, the way she hugged that giant teddy bear, crying and laughing—it was so precious.
"This one, and this one, and that one too. Read these!"
"You like these that much?"
"Yeah!"
I was busy with all sorts of things, so I couldn't visit often, but compared to the other kids at the orphanage, I paid her a lot more attention.
"Are you well, Matron?"
"Sigh. Lately, with Sylvia..."
"Did she cause some trouble? I can give her a good scolding—."
"...It's not something for you to worry about."
"...That's Brother's voice. Daniel Brother's here?"
I could say I raised her as diligently as her matron and patron after them. Enough to boldly claim third parent status.
The phrasing might be odd, but that's how much effort I really put in.
But here's the thing.
"I like you!"
"Yeah, I like you too, Sylvia."
"Yeah! Hehe...."
Kids grow up in the blink of an eye.
"Brother, put this on me."
"There, all done. Our Sylvia looks so cute."
"...Yeah. Thanks...."
I'd forgotten that fact.
"I really like Brother!"
"Am I pretty?"
"I-I'm not a kid. I know the difference between liking and loving!"
"Hmm... For my next birthday present, I want this."
Those last words came as she tied my hair with a gift ribbon.
When it first happened, it was such a shock that I finally understood what brain freeze really meant.
Sylvia's intentions were crystal clear. Any human with a head on their shoulders would get it.
Failing to notice would make you an idiot. Sure, I often get called a "bastardly scum," but I'm no idiot.
The problem was just that, in my eyes, she was still the nine-year-old kid I'd first met. I'd read her fairy tales, fed her meals, sung her lullabies.
After all that time—not just a year or two—how could I suddenly see her as a woman?
So I tried to draw a line. Half-assed behavior would make me a true bastard.
Age gap means no. I've known you since you were this small. Let's stay as family.
I could spout all those clichéd lines easily enough.
"I know."
But she shot me down before I could even try.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice? How you see me."
It sank every prepared line straight to the bottom of the sea. Like she'd read my mind.
At that moment, Sylvia continued her confession in a quivering voice.
"If... another woman comes along, I'll back off cleanly."
"..."
"But someday later... you better prepare yourself."
Back then, I figured someone would come along eventually anyway, so it didn't feel like shackles. The adults around thought it was just a kid's passing crush too.
But here's the thing.
"Daniel. I'm asking seriously."
"Yes."
"...Never mind. It's your business, so meddling would be poison."
No one imagined I'd end up like this at twenty-five. I thought I'd have found someone by now too.
That postponed homework came back as social suicide, right in front of me. Damn it.
"Brother. Got nothing to say?"
"..."
Sylvia, in this state, if I tense up wrong, my spine might fold like a flip phone—how am I supposed to open my mouth?
"5, 4, 3."
"I'll talk."
Talk or not, it folds either way. No choices left for me.
So I stammered out my innocence as best I could.
"Mother's been hounding me about marriage—."
"Then you should've just brought me along."
Refuted.
"And nothing really happened between her and me."
"Ah. Holding hands, feeding each other, dating. That stuff isn't 'man-woman' things, right?"
Refuted.
"Actually, it's a fake engagement—."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Refuted.
A clean, total defeat.
Fine. I'm no oblivious idiot, but I am a bastard who toys with women. Shit.
'This is unfair.'
If Alric heard that, he'd jab a hook straight to my gut.
But unfair is unfair. The fake engagement proposal came from Lucia first.
The fake feeding, fake dates—I was just going along with it.
"Any more rebuttals?"
Of course, the problem is our Judge Sylvia isn't buying this nonsense. Damn.
"No. Kill me."
I deliberately relaxed my body, letting her grill, boil, or fry me as she pleased.
Sylvia's pink eyes, full of doubt, stared at me. Then, out of nowhere, she asked in a suspicious tone.
"...That thing you mentioned earlier. It's really a fake engagement?"
...Is she actually believing this?
"It's a bit complicated, but yeah."
"It's fine, tell me the details."
The story that followed was long. I had to recount everything except my drunken black history.
"So that's how I got the fake engagement proposal."
"Aha."
After hearing the whole tale, she flashed a wickedly charming smile.
"...No conscience at all."
Conscience? Yeah, I'm a guy without one. The First District Chief tells me that plenty.
"Then I have one question."
Just like that, as if nothing happened, she looked straight into my eyes.
"What was so great about it that you accepted the fake engagement?"
...Answer and I'm screwed, don't answer and I'm still screwed.
What now? Half-baked excuses could snap my spine into a Z.
As I sweated bullets without a word, she patted my face with her handkerchief like it was cute.
"I think I get the situation.... But want me to tell you one way out?"
?
She's sparing this guy? For real?
After rejecting her confession for ten years, making eyes at another girl? Even one my age?
...Saying it out loud, I sound like human trash.
"Yes! I can even do a backflip—."
"Wanna do it with me too?"
"..."
"Copying exactly might be weird, so how about fake lovers?"
"...Please kill me."
"Don't wanna~."
"Milady~ Please kill—."
"You know it's a joke."
"..."
"Answer."
I narrowly dodged the devilishly easy path Sylvia laid out.
Becoming a guy with a fake fiancée and fake lover, facing social death.
Or physically snapping my waist and dying.
From those horrific choices, my Mentor Bishop's official call saved me.
'Thank you....'
Just as my back angle veered into impossible territory, the crystal orb in my pocket lit up red.
I barely escaped that joint lock even the audience would shake their heads at.
"Tch. I almost had you."
Truly, I barely scraped by. Either way was terrifying—especially the first, where anyone I met might hurl stones at me.
I joke about having three wives and four concubines, but actually doing it? I'd hear every curse under the sun, more than one life could handle.
Even the Ilysia Empire's emperor sticks to one wife and two concubines.
"I'm letting it slide this time, but you know what happens next, right?"
"..."
"Answer."
"Yep."
As payment for evasion, I ended up giving her a piggyback like when she was little. A pose full of memories.
She's a bit heavier than last time, though.
"Did you work out hard—."
"Brother."
"Sorry."
A quick apology saved my neck just before aura wrapped her arms. This genre screams thriller no matter how you slice it.
Thus, enduring the lukewarm stares from the surrounding priests one step at a time, we reached the office of the Execution Bureau's head—my mentor.
The moment I went to ring the bell by the door.
Bang!
The floor shook with a boom, the bell rattling with a jangle.
'What now?'
Something exploded with a massive blast. ...No way they're beating a black mage inside?
Tense, I cautiously rang the bell.
"Come in."
His usual solemn voice. As I tried to set Sylvia down.
"What are you doing? We're not done."
Her sharp refusal to dismount left me awkwardly entering the office. I want my freedom back, dol-ssoe...
"...What is this now?"
"...That's what I want to know."
"Hello, Patron!"
"Good to see you, Sylvia."
My mentor beamed the instant he saw Sylvia's face.
Everyone knows his pampered foster daughter gets different treatment from his annoying disciple. I'd pick the former too.
"Mentor."
Separate from that, the scene before us was bizarre. Something that absolutely shouldn't happen in an office.
"Why are you training your fists here?"
That recent bang? The sandbag's dying gasp.
With two more dead ones nearby, I had to question if he was really in his fifties.
He'd been at it long enough to go shirtless. How is this a bishop's office?
"The body rusts if not used often. You'll understand when you're older."
True madness. I, a mere mortal, can't comprehend the mindset of someone who traded hair for strength.
'Better than beating underlings?'
Better that fist aims at me than elsewhere, so I decided to forget it. Blind and one-eyed never see eye to eye.
"So, what did you call me for?"
"To give work to the guy frolicking sweetly with his fiancée."
...Word spread this fast already?
Before I could fully feel the rumor mill's speed, another blow landed.
"Disciple."
"Yes."
"I won't meddle in your affairs, but I trust you know the meaning of 'moderation.'"
"...Yes."
"Good. Don't forget I'm her patron."
Veins bulged on his fist with those words.
I know all too well what that fist—which mass-produced three sandbags—can do.
"No plans to run."
"Could you even if you wanted?"
Yeah. Probably couldn't run anyway. Nor do I want to. I'll end it somehow.
"Brother."
Her face popped over my shoulder. Close enough to feel her breaths.
Her dainty pink eyes sparkled, lips twitching as if probing my words' truth.
"You mean that for real?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"...Really."
"Wow...."
Her expression shifted vividly at my words, emotions flashing like stars.
"...Then more than I thought—."
"Ahem. Enough chit-chat. Take this."
Mentor cleared his throat and shoved a paper at me.
"This the task?"
He nodded at my obvious question. I read it.
Let's see. Rendezvous at Brittman Resort. VIP tickets for two attached—disguise as couple?
Hold on.
"Mentor."
Anyone can see this is a place for that. Why assign it now—.
"It is work... Sigh. Go."
"Mentor, Sylvia's an Aura Expert, but—."
"Thank you!"
Before he finished, Sylvia hopped off my back in a flash and snatched the paper with a joyful grin.
"...Our first date in ages?"
She burst into a bright smile fitting her age.
...Yeah, I'm the bad guy.
"Making a girl who smiles like that wear a frown—some bastard did that."
I couldn't retort, just glared curses at Mentor with my eyes.
"So, had your fun week?"
"..."
"Guess you still have a conscience."
Anyone could see I was the bastard, so I shut up. The guilty stay silent.