The Brutein Name Makes the Vulgar Noble
After finishing the meal out, I returned to the Brutein family estate, summoned the butler Chris, and ordered him to procure a skilled painter. Then I visited my older brother and current family head, Jeremiah, to make a personal request.
“You asked to find one person?”
“Yes.”
The protagonist—Ciel Midford—had fled from the remote Ruerg, so I doubted he’d drifted into the central region to be active at this point. There was even a scene in the story where Euphemia explained in detail to Ciel Midford just what kind of family the Bruteins were. Unless he was a fool, he wouldn’t hole up in a place brimming with enemy influence without proper cards to play.
But you never know. I had no desire to get blindsided like “the darkest place is under the lamp,” so I intended to spread the net as thoroughly as possible. All that feigned disinterest, as if I’d already erased him from memory and lost any fascination—it was mere theater.
“I did ask you to find him... but if you truly locate him and have the leeway to kill, bring his head to me yourself.”
“For you to speak so gravely, it seems no trifling matter. Any points of caution?”
“He’s likely awakening the qualities of an Aura Knight, bit by bit. If he’s still alive by now, he’d have grasped at least some of it.”
What protagonist Ciel Midford and the Euphemia who’d been with him didn’t know—but I, the sole reader, did—was his talent, gleaned from the novel’s third-person narration. Among the fixed paths for those who harbored mana, the most finicky to awaken: Aura Knight. The moment one reaches the pinnacle, the mana radiating outward takes form, infused with an anti-magic aura. Typically, to dismantle the phenomena manifested as magic through mana transmutation, interference is the first resort. But a single strike from an Aura Knight clad in that anti-magic aura shatters the spell’s very structure. Their mana itself is a form of disruption. Hence, anti-magic.
“The dog that guarded its master has fled, so it’ll come sniffing back to bite someday. Lend me a bit of the family’s strength, then.”
Seal off the center with the Brutein family’s power. For the fringes beyond our reach, a casual word to the noble heirs gathering at the Academy would suffice. They wouldn’t hide an unblossomed Aura Knight too tightly—not when it could forge connections to the center.
“I’ll have the portrait finished and delivered as soon as Chris secures the painter.”
“Good... Don’t worry. And don’t feel burdened. What happened in our youth stays there. Even as family head, the Bruteins will always stand silently at your back.”
“...”
“So no need to stiffen up every time you lean on the family. I wonder how persuasive it is, speaking to your turned back...”
“I don’t doubt Brother’s sincerity. Then I’ll take my leave.”
Leaving the study, I walked slowly, gazing at the sunset scenery outside. Did winter and spring here have short days too, with the sun hanging low? Filling my head with idle thoughts, I entered the bathroom for a quick bath, then my room.
“...!”
Euphemia, sitting quietly on the bed reading a book, flinched and glanced at me warily.
“I-I had nothing to do... so I took a book from the shelf...”
“It’s fine.”
I had no intention of scolding her for reading without permission, but her habit of seeking approval for every little action was oddly pleasing.
“Finish it. I have work to do.”
Sitting at the desk, I inked the pen, pulled out paper, and pinned it down with a paperweight...
‘Too natural... nothing to say to that.’
The paperweight was probably to prevent the sheet from shifting mid-stroke. Amid this body’s ingrained, effortless work habits, I let out an internal wry chuckle as I densely inscribed the life of Isabel Ron Pierre Genova, whom I’d comprehended.
Pouring out my current mana fully, I could probably maintain an implementation rate of 40 to 50 percent. To fully draw out her performance as a Euclid-rank elemental mage, I’d need at least the 60s.
‘...’
Finishing the transcription of her comprehended life, I couldn’t hide my awe at the perfectly symmetrical script.
The talents listed Calligraphy, but how much blood and sweat must a single person pour into practice for this to become second nature? On the other hand, pity and sympathy welled for Ferzen’s life, where he had to do it this way.
Tak.
With endless immediate feedback as I delved into Isabel Ron Pierre Genova’s life, I set down the pen as my wrist began to ache and stood.
‘Enough for today.’
Activating Quantification confirmed the implementation rate had risen a mere 0.3 percent. Fully comprehending one person’s life was practically impossible, so perhaps it was only natural. Even parents and children, husbands and wives couldn’t grasp each other at 100 percent.
“...”
Time was already 8:40. Euphemia, who’d been reading obediently, had fallen soundly asleep. Curious what she’d chosen, I checked the cover: Understanding the Five Blessings Gods.
‘Picked the lightest read available, at least.’
Five Blessings Gods. Other gods existed in this world, but those who intervened in the human realm with blessings were collectively called the Five Blessings Gods. As the name implied, they oversaw five domains: protection, love, art, abundance, wisdom. Among them, the god of art was the most widely known and recognized. A trip to Rosenberg would show you artists blessed by that god. Of course, the blessings were minor—ensuring an instrument wouldn’t break until its owner’s death, that sort of thing. Still, bearing a god’s endorsement inflated their worth immensely.
But the gods’ blessings weren’t always trivial. Specifically, the gods of protection and wisdom: their blessings were hard-won, granting recipients relatively extraordinary abilities. The First Imperial Princess, for instance, was blessed by the god of wisdom, allowing her to vaguely sense fortune or misfortune in her plans—no further explanation needed.
Knock knock.
Returning the book to the shelf, I heard a faint knock and opened the door.
“The family head asked me to inquire about dinner. What shall it be?”
“Tell Brother I’m sorry, but I’ll retire early tonight.”
“Understood. Good night.”
As the maid bowed and turned, I closed the door and extinguished all the softly illuminating lamps in the room.
Squeak!
Climbing onto the bed, I quietly admired Euphemia, bathed in moonlight. Each time I saw her, that perfect golden ratio soothed my heart.
‘...’
Stroking her hair slowly, a sudden thought struck me. I lowered my hand to rest on Euphemia’s lower abdomen.
Assuming the status quo, rather than coaxing her to open her heart, impregnating her might be the surer path. Offering direction to her lost, helpless sense of powerlessness wasn’t a bad choice. Becoming a mother through pregnancy would grant her life a profound meaning beyond imagination.
Once she entered the Academy as a professor, our time together would dwindle even more.
“Wh-what are you...”
She hadn’t slept as deeply as I thought. Waking to my groping hand, Euphemia eyed me with brimming wariness, inching backward and clutching the covers tight.
“It hurts...!”
Grabbing her slender ankle and pulling, she slid right to me with startling ease. Her dress hiked up in the process, baring the pale flesh of her thighs and seizing my gaze.
Lee Seojin’s moral compass, mingled with this self, recoiled faintly at her terrified expression. But bound as husband and wife—and given the original Lee Seojin already harbored ample fondness for her—it wasn’t hard to quell. This wasn’t some enlightened sage’s soul fused in. Just an utterly ordinary modern everyman’s. Succumbing to desire and losing shape was par for the course.
“H-holding a lowly woman like me...!”
“It’s fine.”
Rolling up my sleeves neatly, I looked down at Euphemia and continued.
“Hang a pearl necklace on a pig’s neck, and onlookers sneer. But stand the opposite at the antipode with a plain necklace, and they’ll arbitrarily deem it worthy, ascribing meaning as they please.”
“Si...”
“Making the vulgar noble—that is the value of the Brutein name. You needn’t worry on that score.”
“No...”
“Before you are Euphemia el Lerenne Ruerg, you are my wife. Bearing my seed and providing an heir is your duty as well.”
Euphemia’s struggles were subdued with absurd ease. Fragile as glass on the verge of shattering, yet this body knew instinctively how to handle her with delicacy.