Irregular
Screeech...! The carriage, battered and bruised from stones and eggs hurled from all sides, finally came to a halt at the venue prepared by the Imperial Family.
Thud! Moments later, the door flew open violently, and out stepped Frey. Clutching a cane in his hand, he staggered slightly toward the guards.
Trailing behind him were Aris, her expression complicated, and Ariane, pale-faced. But as they walked, they all came to a sudden stop in unison.
"Frey Raon Starlight has entered."
The next instant, the steward's voice echoed through the grand ballroom prepared by the Imperial Family.
".........."
As his words rang out, a chilling silence descended upon the ballroom.
Tap, tap. In that silence, Frey quietly advanced. His gaze was fixed solely on the seat where his nameplate lay.
"Hm."
He endured the stares—curious, openly hostile, coldly disdainful—as he made his way to his spot, only to furrow his brow.
"What the hell."
His seat was at the very end of the main hall. As the eldest son of a ducal house, he should have claimed the front row by convention. Even without that, no one was ever seated at the absolute rear—it was basic etiquette.
Yet there, in a position that would be an egregious insult to any attendee, sat a nameplate clearly bearing Frey's name. And it was a cheap one, the kind used for barons.
"......."
Only then did Frey grasp the intent behind this setup. He cautiously scanned his surroundings.
"Pfft, puhuhu..."
"...Think he'll flip the whole place? That'd be fun."
Most of the nobles watched him with anticipation, eager to see how he'd react. In the old days, such attitudes would have been unthinkable, but now, among the nobility, Frey was no longer someone to curry favor with or tread carefully around.
He was under constant media fire, subjected to investigations by the Imperial Family and Church, and even sneered at by commoners. Once the hero verification and appointment ceremony concluded, the impending surprise inquisition would strip him of both power and wealth—it was inevitable.
Swish...
Thus, as Frey slumped dejectedly into the rearmost seat and bowed his head, the nobles discreetly turned away, hiding smirks behind their hands, while the maids chattered among themselves.
"What if Frey ends up a commoner... what happens then?"
"Who knows... but he'd get hell from the noble ladies, that's for sure."
"Should I take him in and raise him? Whip him if he doesn't obey."
"You're such a joker. Careful, or you'll get dragged down too."
The giggly voices of the young maids, fresh to the palace, naturally reached Frey at the very back. But he said nothing.
Yes. Frey was no longer the public enemy—he was public prey.
Not his usual smug expression, cocky grin, or arrogant sneer. This anxious, depressed, terrified, utterly broken wretch of a man was enough to stir a twisted sense of depravity in anyone who knew him.
And the title of fallen ducal heir he was about to acquire held a power that made many salivate. The allure of toying with someone from the highest perch—and watching them plummet—had always been irresistible.
So despite his profoundly pitiful appearance, Frey endured the blatant stares and taunts for quite some time.
But there were exceptions.
"...He looks rough."
"Yeah, worse than the last time we saw him...?"
A few Starlight retainers standing blankly behind Aris and Ariane, whispering cautiously.
".........."
A handful of young ladies gazing at him with hooded eyes.
"Master, who's that guy? You said no one's supposed to sit there."
"...Sigh. Didn't wanna come."
And a cute little girl who had just arrived at the ball, clinging to her master's hand.
......
"Frey~! Hi there?"
"Hm?"
Someone addressed Frey, who sat pathetically at the end.
"Fancy seeing you here."
"...?"
Turning at the voice, Frey tilted his head.
A group of heavily made-up noble ladies stood behind him, smiling with their eyes.
"Wanna come to our seats? This spot looks uncomfortable."
"Yeah~ Come join us~"
The smiling ladies tugged at his clothes, making their offer.
"Who the hell are you?"
Frey's question cracked their smiles.
"Hehe... Don't remember us?"
But their leader kept her composure, whispering calmly.
"We're in the same class."
"Same class?"
"And we were the core of the true Frey faction..."
Yes. They were representatives handling the female members of the self-proclaimed Frey faction at the academy— all from marquis houses or higher.
"Still no memory?"
As the girl who used to massage his shoulders daily wrapped her hands around them softly, he lowered his gaze quietly.
"Still don't ring a bell."
"Aw, c'mon..."
"...I don't care about loose women."
The ladies massaging his shoulders fell silent at his words.
"...You don't get your situation, do you?"
Moments later, the girl's face twisted menacingly as she kneaded his shoulder.
"You're done for soon. Probably end up a regular commoner. Right?"
"........."
Her nails dug into his silent shoulder.
"Know how many bribes I've given you? And it's not just me. The money and bribes from our houses here... could feed the Empire for five years."
She leaned in close, her expression icy.
"So, how're you gonna make it right?"
"Ugh..."
"You're about to be a commoner. Stripped of everything. How do you plan to face the fury of the houses that invested in you?"
Even as her nails burrowed deeper, Frey kept his head bowed, not turning.
"Puhuhu... Hilarious. The great Frey groveling to me."
Satisfied, she whispered in his ear.
"Want us to make you our slave?"
"......."
"With our power... hiding someone like you is easy as pie."
As Frey paled and stared at the floor, she smirked and continued.
"But in return... we wanna pay back the humiliation you put us through."
"........."
"Don't like it? Get sold to a brothel. Or kidnapped. Plenty of people itching for that."
Frey muttered softly.
"Stop."
"Huh?"
She tilted her head, then smiled.
"You should stop."
"Pfft."
Her cronies, arms around his shoulders with greedy eyes, surrounded the hunched Frey. Their leader twisted his arm while whispering.
"Pathetic."
"Ack..."
"Since when could you give us orders?"
Frey closed his eyes tightly.
"I warned you."
His timid, quavering voice— a fallen villain heir still barking orders, refusing his fate— was pure delight for these women, long nursing grudges.
"What? Scream for us?"
But Frey's defiance couldn't last forever, so they closed in with cold expressions.
"Who knows if some hero might swoop in to save you..."
"Excuse me."
"Huh?"
Just before they fully encircled him, someone appeared beside them.
"Mind moving?"
"Who're you?"
The girl, young-looking under a deep hood hiding her face.
"Wasn't planning to come, but I insisted, so no seats left. Excuse me."
She slipped between the ladies and sat beside Frey.
"What the... this clueless brat..."
Their leader glared coldly.
"Kid, don't interfere. Scram over there..."
"...Mind your manners."
"Eek!?"
She gaped at the figure behind her.
"Can't have my disciple standing."
"Ah, uh, y-yeah, of course...?"
The Empire's Magic Tower Lord stood there, looking bored.
".........!"
Rumors had swirled about the Tower Lord's disciple; now she appeared, drawing noble eyes to the end.
"What're you staring at?"
The Tower Lord's words sent gazes scattering.
"W-well, we'll... be going then..."
The ladies chose retreat.
"...We'll be back. Get ready."
She hissed in Frey's ear before hurrying to the corridor.
".........."
Short silence followed.
"Excuse me."
The girl who broke it turned to Frey, still bowed beside her.
"You okay?"
"......."
"Helllo~?"
No answer. She leaned over to peer at his face.
"Mm..."
She stared for a long moment.
"...Don't mind me, kid."
Frey spoke coldly, without looking.
"......."
She watched him lift his head to view the nearly finished verification.
"Why'd you just take it?"
"......."
"Huh?"
She pressed relentlessly.
"...You don't know me?"
"I do. Master just told me."
"Then why keep talking?"
"Curious."
"Sigh."
Frey frowned slightly, sighed, and muttered glaring back.
"No need to humor idiots who can't take a hint even when told to stop."
"...?"
He eyed the tilting girl.
"But..."
Then scowled.
"...Who are you?"
A ring on her left hand glinted.
......
Meanwhile.
"Agh, aaah...!"
Beyond the corridor door, the lady who had just clawed Frey's shoulder was gripped from both sides.
"S-sorry... forgive m— kyaaak...!"
Serena and Clana crushed her shoulders with icy faces.
"Remember those who scattered earlier?"
"All of them. Houses and names."
"Ready for today's announcement?"
"Yes. Perfectly."
They conversed casually.
"But... who was that kid?"
"Tower Lord's disciple, apparently."
"I see. Wasn't coming, but insisted... ran out of seats? That's fine then..."
Clana, slightly tense, relaxed at Serena's reply—but then.
"...Wait, Tower Lord's disciple?"
She scowled, peering at the robed girl beyond the door.
"In the previous loop, the Tower Lord's only disciple was... Irina."