Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: The Puppeteer
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‘What is this…’
Wary of the unfamiliar atmosphere, so different from yesterday, Loan continued forward.
If the turbid mana radiating outward was this potent, something unexpected must be happening inside.
Indeed, once he entered, he understood at once.
The dark mana, shimmering like a heat haze, originated from the pile of gift boxes stacked beneath the duke's dais at the far end of the reception hall.
The Stones of Goetia must be among the gifts gathered from all over.
Perhaps the stones being gathered so close together had triggered a specific effect. Otherwise, the mana pervading the air made no sense.
Just then, Loan's name was announced with a different title than yesterday.
"Presenting Sir Luan Albre, winner of the men's division of the ball."
Loan slowed his pace to get a better look at the pile of gifts.
The people already present turned their heads toward Loan.
But what was also strange was that the vast hall, so crowded with nobles yesterday, was now nearly empty, with only three people standing near the duke's dais.
Even if they had been selected through the competition, the number was far too small.
Was the lady's condition so severe that it couldn't be shown to the public?
As questions piled up, Loan walked silently across the carpet, his eyes fixed on the pile of gifts.
When he got closer, he saw a total of six Stones of Goetia, including the one he had brought.
Their size and mana concentration were all similar. They might each contain a different demon, or perhaps Aul would awaken from all of them.
‘Aul still doesn't know anything about the stones.’
It was yesterday.
He hadn't needed to borrow Aul's power for a few days after feeding it Bifrons, so he had summoned it to see its face and ask if it remembered anything about the stones.
The only changes were that it left two or three more footprints in the air than usual, and its legs were a nail's length longer.
It knew nothing about the stones. Even showing one to it directly yielded no results.
‘Maybe it's because the dark mana has completely vanished from Aul.’
Pushing the thoughts aside, Loan placed his own gift to one side and looked up at the dais.
Just like yesterday, Duke Ferrara was looking down at him, though his expression was a little brighter today.
Beside him, the seat where the lady should have been was empty.
"I heard you put on quite a performance at the ball yesterday."
"You flatter me."
"I didn't realize a minor house from Versa put such effort into its social affairs. And to think you competed with House Pobel. Your family head must have been strengthening his house from within for quite some time."
"The head of my house would be overjoyed to hear you say so."
For the past few days as Luan, Loan had thought and acted as if he were truly the fourth son of House Albre.
The duke, too, seemed pleased with Loan's response.
"It would be even better if today's meeting could forge a strong bond between our two houses. Could you be a pillar of that bond?"
"I will do my utmost, whatever it may be."
"Whatever it may be?"
At Loan's answer, Duke Ferrara let out a hearty laugh, and small chuckles echoed it throughout the reception hall.
It was the hollow laughter of people trying to share in the emotion of an absolute ruler.
As soon as Duke Ferrara stopped laughing, all the other laughter ceased in an instant.
The duke nodded with an enigmatic smile. Then, suddenly.
"Is Mirka not here yet?"
he asked, his voice like a command.
The moment the duke's words fell, as if on cue.
*Creeak—*
With a low grating sound, a small door to the duke's side opened, and a woman with an extremely pale face slowly entered.
"Presenting Lady Mirka of the Duchy of Ferrara."
Had it not been for the attendant's announcement, even Loan would have had trouble connecting the woman to the lady.
She was that emaciated.
*Swish—swish—*
With the sound of her dress hem dragging on the floor, she slowly approached the center of the hall, where Loan stood.
Mirka was so thin it was a wonder she could bear the weight of her dress, yet her mana was incredibly dark and dense.
But something else clearly distinguished her from an ordinary person.
The same vacant, unfocused eyes he had seen in Sophie.
As he tried to peer into that abyss, his exchange with the demon Bifrons naturally came to mind.
When asked if it was the one who had done that to Sophie, the creature had mentioned the word "doll" but never finished its answer.
‘If its desire for the Stones of Goetia was because of that…’
With that premonition, Loan's gaze suddenly shifted from the lady to what was over her shoulder.
The still-open door.
Another woman, just now stepping inside.
Loan's eyes shimmered like the sea.
‘Amy.’
There she was.
The years had passed, but she looked no different from when they first met.
The same person who had greeted him with an indifferent expression, who had rejoiced in his achievements as if they were her own every time she taught him to write, who had secretly hidden away ice cream to give him as a reward because she knew he liked it, who had always been friendly and told him to call her big sister, and who had then pushed him through the door with such sad eyes—she was exactly the same.
Amy slowly walked up onto the dais.
Loan's eyes followed her, and she stood beside the empty lady's seat, meeting his gaze steadily.
Other than being filled with perfect darkness, her expression betrayed no malice.
‘It was Amy who told them to collect the stones.’
A strange sense of dissonance—she looked too perfectly human to be a doll, yet too untouched by the years to be human.
And another sense of dissonance from his surroundings.
‘It's strange. I seem to be the only one who's noticed Amy.’
According to Bella and Vice Commander Oscar, the frail lady had regained her strength after meeting a new handmaiden.
‘That handmaiden must have been Amy.’
Considering the once-reclusive lady had recovered enough to decide to dance of her own volition, it was easy to guess how much trust the duke placed in her handmaiden, Amy.
In fact, the duke looked at his daughter with satisfaction before giving Amy a small nod.
It was an expression and gesture Loan had never seen from him.
Given the circumstances, he was certain that any rash action would only complicate the situation.
‘Not yet.’
He recalled the exact words the Amy doll had said to him back in Olen—
Loan turned his gaze to Mirka.
She had come to stand right in front of him and was looking up, her face devoid of any emotion. Her unfocused eyes were the same as before.
‘She really does look like a soulless doll.’
In Loan's experience, it was impossible for an ordinary person to maintain such a demeanor.
Any woman who came this close, regardless of age, would blush, their breathing would grow heavy, or they would awkwardly avert their gaze.
So, how was he supposed to dance with a doll?
It wouldn't be difficult. He already had experience leading a stiff partner with Convection during the ball.
Seeing this as another step he had to take, Loan gently raised his hand. Mirka's slender wrist rose to meet it.
He clasped her hand, lightly wrapped an arm around her waist, and spread the flow of Convection wide.
Soon after.
"Begin."
The duke's low, yet intensely expectant voice filled the hall.
Without delay—
Music, a little grander than yesterday's, began to play, and Loan enveloped Mirka's fragile-looking body in Convection, gently leading her.
Merged as one with a single step, the two glided across the stage that was now entirely theirs.
At the fluid and beautiful sight.
"Ooh..."
The duke shot up from his seat with a cry of admiration.
It even seemed like his eyes had reddened.
For that bear of a man to show such emotion.
Realizing how much he must have suffered, Loan felt a sense of confusion.
‘Could it be that the duke knows?’
Harboring this suspicion, Loan moved Mirka's stiff, wooden body with delicate and gentle precision—
feeling more like a puppeteer himself—
he shot momentary glares at Amy whenever she came into view.
The puppeteer, who met Loan's gaze for a fleeting instant.
"Haaah..."
A thin wisp of darkness escaped from between her parted lips, which had been curved in a strange smile since the dance began.
It felt as if that breath was reaching him directly, despite the distance.
No, it was a tangible sensation—
‘Hmm…’
Glancing down, Loan saw that Mirka's expression was now the same as Amy's. He saw that life had returned to her unfocused eyes. He saw that those eyes now resembled Amy's.
In that moment, a black breath rising from her pale lips tried once again to tickle Loan's neck, cheek, and ear.
What would have happened if he hadn't adjusted the flow of Convection to nullify it?
In truth, he had no time to ponder it further.
Because the person he held in his arms, the one he was dancing with, now seemed to be Amy herself.
Conversely, the Amy standing on the dais now looked like a wooden doll.
And what's more, Mirka, who had become Amy—
"Now I want you,"
whispered these strange words.
Loan momentarily lost control of his blurred senses.
"What nonsense is this?"
Loan retorted, pulling Mirka closer.
Pulled gently toward him, Mirka leaned into his arms and replied.
"Because I regret it. I shouldn't have left you behind back then."
"You tried to kill me. You must have tried before, too. Were you involved in Le Tell's ritual?"
"I'm your big sister. Why are you talking so scary?"
"Some big sister."
"Why are you being like this? You used to read fairy tales in my arms. You'd cuddle right up to me."
"That never happened."
"Then again... you're not a child anymore. You've grown so big and strong."
As Mirka's coquettishness intensified and Loan's emotions flared, the music swelled toward its climax, and the whispers grew more intimate.
The dark mana surged within the space he had created.
Leading the being that was at once Amy, Mirka, and a wooden doll—
Loan's movements grew more intense as well.
How could Mirka's slender body perform such rough and powerful turns?
As the onlookers watched, captivated by the dance.
Loan's reason struggled to hold on.
"Why are you collecting the Stones of Goetia?"
"Loan, my Loan."
"Just answer me."
"Hahaha. You're cute even when you're angry."
There was no getting through to her. And yet, he couldn't push her away.
"Does your heart still ache? Shall I find you perfect peace?"
"..."
"Where did the obedient little Loan go?"
"..."
Amy chattered on relentlessly.
She let out little laughs in between, and exhaled sharply whenever their bodies drew close.
It felt like an eternity.
None of her words stuck, and all his thoughts felt futile. Then, finally.
"It would be so nice if you would just accept it, too."
With those enigmatic last words.
*Swish—swish—screech—*
After the rustle of clothes and the screech of shoes on the floor, the soaring melody of the violin finally came to a stop.
Loan gently released the slender hand of the woman who was now Mirka again, striving to calm his wildly beating heart.
A time more difficult to endure than any battle.
The briefly silent space erupted with cheers and applause.
Loan turned his head, not toward his partner, but toward Amy on the dais.
She smiled and said.
"Now, shall we open the boxes?"