Chapter 44
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: Clique Backstab
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Today's Argent Family estate was unmistakably different from the norm.
From the moment you stepped through the entrance, the air felt heavy.
Every breath you drew pressed against your lungs with a unique tension laced with the scents of stone, iron, and blood.
As if this place were preparing not for war, but for a ritual.
The plaza before the main gate had been cleared spotless, flanked on both sides by soldiers clad in black iron armor emblazoned with the Argent crest, standing in perfect formation.
At the forefront was the army of the First Heir, Wolfram.
Their spears were thrust straight into the ground, their shields aligned without the slightest tremor.
In the silence that allowed not even a breath, every soldier's gaze was fixed solely on the main gate.
On the dot.
The sound of wheels rolling from afar drifted in.
A rhythmic scraping against the stone pavement.
A rhythm utterly foreign to the imperial military carriages.
"They're coming..."
Wolfram muttered lowly.
A moment later, what emerged was no imperial carriage adorned with iron and gold.
The body seemed woven from natural wood as it was.
The carvings and decorations curved in rejection of artificial lines, and a faint forest scent emanated from the carriage as a whole.
Like a mobile shrine.
Even the Argent soldiers instinctively straightened their postures before it.
"It is an honor to meet you again like this, Princesses of the Elf Kingdom."
Wolfram's greeting was courteous and without excess.
"...The honor is ours."
"To meet the Heir of the Argent Family in person—truly a great privilege."
Once the formal exchange ended, the carriage door quietly opened.
In that instant—
A faint stir rippled through the ranks of Argent soldiers.
These were men forged from the bottom up.
Soldiers accustomed to the stench of blood on the battlefield.
Even they took a beat longer to avert their eyes from the sheer presence.
Stepping down from the carriage were three elves who seemed like the forest itself had taken human form.
White hair tresses fluttered gently in the sunlight, and below their pointed ears ran the refined, noble lines unique to elves.
Their dresses, as if dyed in the colors of the forest, prioritized harmony over ornamentation.
The princesses of the Elf Kingdom.
The third, Celsia.
The second, Bellsia.
And at their center, the one who stood out.
The most radiant, yet with the calmest gaze.
A demeanor as if she had already accepted her fate to reign as the next queen.
The first princess, Elsia.
Her two younger sisters made no effort to hide their discomfort with human eyes upon them.
They alighted with chins subtly raised, maintaining distance.
Elsia, however, was different.
She took Wolfram's offered hand without hesitation, naturally.
Once down, she scanned her surroundings once before speaking directly.
"I wish to meet the Head of the Argent Family right away."
"Of course. The Family Head awaits you all."
With those words, the gates of Argent quietly swung open.
Of course, the Elf Kingdom hadn't been receptive to Argent's initial contact from the start.
Quite the opposite.
The first letter from that shady family ruling the continent's underworld had laid bare the Elf Kingdom's most closely guarded shame.
The fact that they held the missing high elf, Fourth Princess Aira, as their slave.
The Elder Council erupted on the spot.
"A human possessing the bloodline of a high elf—!"
"And of all people, the infamous wicked Argent Family!"
"We must mobilize the army immediately."
"Even if it means war with the Abellan Empire."
"Rescuing Princess Aira comes first. We'll deliver their judgment after."
The council chamber filled with a mix of rage and fear.
A high elf wasn't merely royalty. She embodied the Elf Kingdom's legitimacy and sanctity itself.
The humiliation of such a being in human hands—and as a slave no less—shook the kingdom's very foundation.
However.
That inflamed atmosphere settled in an instant with Argent's follow-up letter arriving just a day later.
"...Marriage?"
"A union between the Elf Kingdom and the Argent Family?"
The elders stirred.
The letter's contents were simple.
Argent offered no apology, no excuses.
Instead, a proposal.
They desired marriage with the Elf Kingdom.
In exchange, they would provide the 'Fountain of Immortality' gratis to the kingdom's upper echelons.
The chamber fell silent.
The Fountain of Immortality.
No one on the continent was ignorant of its name.
It was one reason the Abellan Empire maintained absolute power centered on its imperial family—a miraculous source of recovery.
Water that restored severed limbs, healed rotting flesh in a single day.
If the Water of Life was the imperial family's exclusive miracle, the Fountain of Immortality was its equal second.
And the Argent Family possessed it.
Only then did calculations buried under anger surface.
Wealth and honor they already had in abundance.
Elders who had sat upon the forest throne for centuries.
They held power, respect, names etched in history.
For them, one problem remained.
Even for the long-lived elves, inevitable 'aging'.
Strong mana didn't exempt the flesh.
Fingers weaving spells with staves for centuries stiffened gradually; backs from endless meditation and meetings failed to support their own weight.
Their joints would ground noisily, their lungs reject with deep breaths and their eyes could see the world yet they lost their focus.
In the Elf Kingdom, which revered natural healing, such changes were deemed 'providence,' not illness.
The very idea of fixing them bordered on blasphemy.
The results were clear.
Magic dulled pain but didn't restore cartilage; herbs lowered fevers but didn't strengthen weakened hearts.
While commoners struggled for one more day, elders pondered.
How to age.
How far they will go to cling to thrones with their crumbling bodies.
The insular Elf Kingdom's elders suffered worst.
Rejecting outside medicine, leaving all to nature and time, they were defenseless against bodily decay.
Before them: the Fountain of Immortality, restoring limbs, realigning bones and organs, even reversing age-ravaged flesh.
Some swallowed hard, some bowed heads, some clenched fists in silence.
The humiliation of a high elf versus the miracle delaying death.
The scales had already begun tipping quietly from then.
'The Fountain of Immortality springs from nature itself. No artifice, no dark magic—just pure natural produce.'
That was decisive.
It didn't clash with elven doctrine revering nature; it could even be seen as a blessing.
Thus, the elders clinging to thrones in senescence and the king bedridden with illness easily wavered.
It took little time to approve Argent's proposal.
A fourth princess already deemed useless and exiled beyond the forest—Aira.
Accepting a marriage as cover via her was no great burden.
But.
That agreement was mere facade from start to finish.
"Celsia. Bellsia."
Elsia called lowly.
"You remember the plan, right?"
"Of course, sister. We'll pretend to play along with Argent's tune~."
"While you secure the Fountain of Immortality, we handle Aira, yeah?"
No hesitation, no emotion in their words.
As if confirming a long predetermined sequence.
Trade the high elf bloodline for some Fountain of Immortality and send it beyond the forest?
No such option existed for the Elf Kingdom.
The Fountain was vital for the elders and king—their last chance to cling to decaying flesh.
But they couldn't taint millennia of high elf blood with Argent's murky lineage.
Thus, the Elf Kingdom dispatched its top forces.
The kingdom's three princesses.
Including the next queen and even the touted 'hero candidate' successor, Elsia.
Two objectives.
First: secure the Fountain of Immortality.
Second: completely execute the high elf who shamed the kingdom, Aira.
The elven forest is a blessed land.
Sow seeds and stems grow on their own; mana-infused water cycles and multiplies.
Even the Fountain could propagate if brought there.
Their answer was clear.
Hospitality and promises to Argent.
Immortality and legitimacy to the Elf Kingdom.
This deal began with smiles, but would end with gains solely for the elves.
...or so the three princesses believed.
Likely the elders and upper echelons too.
Indeed, as Elsia toured the Argent domain guided by Wolfram, she fully sensed why this family dominated the continent's underworld.
Troops, facilities, mana flows.
All worthy of 'strong' appraisal.
But that was it.
They could achieve their hidden goals and slip away before things tangled.
That much was calculated.
At least—
Until they met the true master of Argent.
"Pleased to meet you."
That single phrase.
The moment they entered the Family Head's chamber, the very air shifted.
No overt threat.
No visible killing intent.
Yet the sensation that any stray thought would end their breath right there.
A pressure crushing the space by mere existence.
Agram Argent.
The instant they faced him, the playful smiles perpetually on Celsia and Bellsia's faces vanished completely.
The sisters instinctively clutched each other's arms.
They felt they'd forget how to breathe without deliberate deep inhales.
Even as Elsia handled the conversation thereafter, the two uttered not a word.
On the surface, it was hospitality.
Words polite, formalities flawless.
But Elsia knew.
This wasn't welcome.
'Humiliation...!'
Even as she spoke, Elsia unconsciously bit her lip.
Her fists clenched.
This man's gaze wasn't upon the Elf Kingdom's princesses.
High elf.
The next generation to lead the kingdom.
A hero candidate.
Stripped of all those titles, they are looked upon like merchandise whose value had been assessed.
That was how Agram regarded them.
Yes, like useful 'slaves'.