Chapter 574: A Trap Within a Trap
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 574: A Trap Within a Trap
"Stop!"
Sharp’s eyes bulged with fury. In an instant, the mana he had been using for defense surged violently toward Muen, who was pressing forward instead of retreating.
But Muen seemed utterly indifferent to the chilling killing intent at his back. He slammed a fist down onto the sarcophagus.
Crack!
Following a thunderous boom came the crisp sound of shattering.
The lid, crafted from a material that looked like sculpted crystal, was clearly no ordinary substance, yet it fractured directly under the full force of Muen’s punch.
The aged face within was finally exposed to the air, looking increasingly pale and ghastly.
"I told you... to stop!"
Sharp’s eyes were bloodshot, his mind nearly consumed by a tidal wave of rage.
It wasn't that he shared a deep bond with his father; rather, he knew exactly how vital this body was. If anything went wrong here, he wouldn't even need to wait for that person to punish him—the greedy ghouls currently sitting at the dinner table waiting for their slice of the cake would tear him to shreds!
The execution of the entire plan hinged on this. There could be no mistakes!
His chanting grew faster and more complex. Brilliant mana illuminated the dim cellar. Ignoring the biting cold and the potential backlash of using powerful magic in such a confined space, Sharp conjured a searing fire that transformed into a dragon, intent on devouring Muen.
Muen, however, did not continue his assault. Instead, he spun around, suddenly heaving the sarcophagus upright to use as a shield.
"You bastard..."
The magic stalled instantly. Sharp nearly spat a mouthful of blood as he forcibly dissipated the flames he had already unleashed. The sensation of reeling back a full-strength strike was agonizing. Had he not possessed such precise control over his mana, the backlash would have left him severely injured.
"Despicable!" Sharp hissed through gritted teeth.
"Despicable?"
Muen peeked out from behind the sarcophagus and smiled. "You’ve misunderstood me. Didn't I do exactly what you said and stop?"
"Cut the crap! Give my father back!"
"I’m afraid I can’t do that. Your father and I hit it off quite well—I’m practically thinking of becoming sworn brothers with him. Isn't that right, Marquis Dion?"
Muen draped an arm around the coffin, acting as affectionately as if he were truly leaning on a brother’s shoulder.
Sharp’s face contorted with rage at the blatant disrespect.
However, he took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing his roiling anger. "Give my father back, and I’ll let you leave."
"Oh?" Muen raised an eyebrow. "So generous? But why should I trust you? What if you turn on me the moment I let go?"
"I swear it on the name of the Dion family!"
"Please. I’ve made that kind of oath more times than I can count, yet no one has ever dared to steal the Old Loli’s lollipop."
Muen shrugged. "How about Marquis Sharp shows a bit more generosity? Once I’m safely outside, I’ll return your father to you."
"In your dreams!"
Sharp ground his teeth. "Don't think I don't know what you're planning. This cellar has only one exit; you have nowhere to run. Your only bargaining chip is that coffin, and you can only use it to trade. But if I let a speed-oriented martial artist like you get outside, there’s no telling what complications might arise. I’m not that stupid!"
"And if I destroy your father’s body right now? You wouldn't care?"
"You’re welcome to take that gamble."
The gathering mana once again fluttered the hem of Sharp’s clothes. During their brief exchange, snake-like magic circuits had already surrounded Muen. Sharp sneered, "Let’s see if I kill you first, or if you destroy my father’s body first. Of course, regardless of the outcome... you die!"
The frozen ground made the killing intent feel even colder. Facing Sharp, who stood at the cellar’s only entrance and refused to yield an inch, Muen let out a silent sigh.
With this kind of resolve, it’s no wonder these guys have been able to act as parasites on the Empire for so long. They aren't all useless.
Or rather, the truly useless ones had already been filtered out by the long river of the Empire’s history.
The ones who remained, no matter how bloated or corrupt, would always show their fangs when the contents of their own plates were threatened.
Even a domesticated dog that has lost its wildness becomes vicious when protecting its food.
Moreover, the man before him was no mere lapdog, but a genuine Radiant-Tier Mage—one of the top-tier powerhouses in Belland.
Yes, a mage.
Muen’s eyes flickered. "I suppose there’s no other way."
Muen’s posture suddenly dropped, and the power he had been accumulating erupted in an instant. He struck the back of the sarcophagus with a palm strike.
The sarcophagus shattered instantly, but Old Dion’s body was propelled by the external force, flying rapidly toward Sharp.
"Father!"
Sharp’s expression changed. With a gentle wave of his hand, a soft breeze surged forward to catch Old Dion’s body.
The terrifying force had clearly been applied only to the exterior of the coffin; the corpse inside was completely unharmed.
And because of that, Sharp’s attention was forced to divert to the body for a single heartbeat.
In the shadow behind Old Dion’s body, something suddenly flashed.
Then—
Zheng—!
A sharp object pierced the air.
A frost-white rapier lunged from a blind spot in the shadows. Its speed was incredible, yet it stopped roughly thirty centimeters away from Sharp.
Several glimmers of light flickered around Sharp’s body. Precious magic devices and magic scrolls floated up simultaneously, complementing the defensive spells he had already prepared. He was encased in what was essentially an indestructible tortoise shell.
A truly experienced mage would never leave their physical body exposed or undefended.
A triumphant, cruel smirk curled on Sharp’s lips as he looked toward Muen.
However, he did not see the frustration he expected.
Because in that exact moment, a blindingly brilliant light erupted from the shadows.
It wasn't hot, and it held no threat; the light was simply bright—utterly, blindingly bright.
His vision was momentarily stripped away.
Then, in a state where only his hearing and perception could function, Sharp heard a clear sound—like paper being sliced by something incredibly sharp.
One stroke. Another. And another.
Finally...
Puchi.
The light faded, and his vision returned.
Sharp looked down stiffly. He saw the ice-blue rapier protruding from his body, having been thrust precisely through a perfectly straight gap in his barrier—a gap that looked as if it had been cut open by something else entirely.
Blood flowed.
A pain he rarely experienced tore at his nerves.
"Got you," Muen said softly. "Marquis Sharp."
"You..."
For the umpteenth time that night, Sharp’s face was a mask of disbelief.
How could a mere martial artist, a common brute, pierce his defensive barrier so easily? Why?
What special means did he use?
Was the flash just now intended to hide that tool?
Which meant either it was something that couldn't be seen in the light, or it was something that would expose...
The stinging pain in his flesh interrupted Sharp’s thoughts.
Muen twisted the rapier. The Ice Power from Celicia’s Divine Blessing spread rapidly, corroding Sharp’s body.
"I think, based on my past experience, a mage who’s been stabbed doesn't usually have much of a chance for a comeback."
Muen stared into Sharp’s eyes. "You lost."
"Lost? In your dreams."
Amidst the unbearable pain, Sharp laughed with a hint of madness.
Clack.
His jaws snapped shut.
Muen’s pupils constricted as he sensed something, but Sharp’s defensive barriers were still active. The gap he had hastily cut using Elizabeth wasn't large enough to allow him to stop Sharp’s next move.
In the blink of an eye, Muen kicked off the ground, flipping backward to swap positions with Sharp while skillfully bringing the rapier across his chest.
The Divine Blessing power within the blade seemed to understand his intent, instantly condensing into a thick wall of ice.
Boom!
The ice wall didn't even last a second before shattering under a terrifying, gargantuan force.
Muen used the recoil to drift backward, coming to a halt dozens of meters away in the passage outside the cellar.
Crunch, crunch.
Ice was ground into powder by heavy footsteps. Amidst the fluttering frost, a figure twice the size of the previous one gradually emerged into Muen’s view.
The face still belonged to the high-born new Marquis, but python-like muscles had shredded his exquisite formal suit. Beast-like claws resembled steel blades, and the black fur covering his body was no longer elegant, but filled with bloodthirsty savagery.
"Bruce..."
One eye was bloodshot and feral, while the other remained clear. A long chant began to resonate, and dazzling mana continued to swirl around the monster.
The monster—or rather, Sharp—let out a low, beastly growl, his smile twisted and fierce.
"To think you forced me to take this step. Are you ready to face ten times—a hundred times—the agony?"
With a casual wave of his hand, a deafening boom nearly ruptured Muen's eardrums. The entire passage began to crumble inch by inch starting from Sharp. An invisible shockwave rolled forward like a Great Dragon, lunging at the small figure of Muen.
"Ah, so that’s how it is?"
Seeing Sharp in this state, Muen dodged quickly while pressing down on his top hat with a touch of helplessness.
"A beastified form that retains its reason... Is this the 'New Drug' you mentioned?"
He had been wondering what the so-called New Drug was; now that he knew the effect, he couldn't find it in himself to be happy.
A Radiant-Tier Mage was already troublesome enough, but this beastification drug compensated for Sharp’s physical weaknesses.
Now, he truly couldn't see a way to win.
"It seems..." Muen’s peripheral vision swept over Old Dion’s body behind Sharp, and he sighed. "This operation won't be a success after all."
"Success?" Sharp scoffed. "I feel pity that you still have such unrealistic thoughts even at death's door. Don't worry, Mr. Dark Emperor of the Lower District. I’ll help liberate you from those thoughts very soon. Before you die, I’ll make sure you feel... utter regret for your overconfidence!"
The frost had yet to settle, and the killing intent had yet to subside.
After confirming that Muen could no longer threaten his father’s body, Sharp removed all restraints and charged after the constantly retreating Muen.
Outside the mansion, the clamor was gradually dying down, replaced by the piercing glare of searchlights and the rhythmic hoofbeats of the Knight Order that had finally reacted.
The assailants who had attacked the mansion had already withdrawn at some point. Under the protection of the Upper District’s Knight Order, there was no chance of them returning.
Although the instigator’s escape speed exceeded Sharp’s expectations, in his eyes, since the opponent’s goal had not been achieved, the outcome of this game was already decided.
*
"Is it to your liking, Brother?"
Celicia set down her utensils and asked with elegant poise.
The restaurant was refined, and the classical music was equally intoxicating.
This was the most luxurious top-tier restaurant in the Upper District. Every patron was of noble status, but tonight, the entire establishment had been reserved. The well-trained waiters, the royal chef, and the nation’s famous classical musicians were all serving only these two incredibly distinguished guests.
"Of course," Albert smiled. "To be invited by Celicia, even black bread would taste sweet."
"Sweet..." Celicia chewed on the word, a faint curve appearing at the corner of her mouth. "I never imagined Brother would have tasted something like black bread, which only the commoners of the Lower District eat. It’s quite admirable."
"...Celicia, you flatter me. It’s nothing."
Albert’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before he steered the conversation away. "Speaking of which, Celicia, you didn't invite me here just for dinner, did you? If there’s something on your mind, please speak plainly. There’s no need for indirectness between us."
Albert wore a gentle smile, his words carrying an air of immense approachability.
"Of course," Celicia nodded. "We are siblings sharing the same blood; naturally, there’s no need for indirectness. But has Brother ever considered that I might have invited you tonight simply because I truly wanted to have dinner with you?"
"What..." Albert looked slightly surprised, subtly scrutinizing Celicia.
But no matter how he looked, he couldn't find a trace of falsehood on Celicia’s cold, expressionless face.
Could it be... she was telling the truth?
"Brother, look. It seems quite lively outside."
"Hmm?"
Lively? At a time like this?
Confused, Albert turned his head to follow Celicia’s gaze.
Then, he saw the soaring flames in the distance.
"From the looks of it, it seems some great noble’s mansion is on fire. Tsk tsk, the fire looks quite large."
Celicia rested her chin on her hand like an innocent girl watching a play. Albert’s expression, however, grew increasingly grim. He felt that the direction of the fire looked... familiar.
He even saw a familiar black bird fly past the window, though it didn't dare to approach.
Robin?
Was he coming here because he had something important to report?
"Ah, a bird."
Albert’s heart tightened, thinking Robin had been discovered. But when he looked back, he saw Celicia beckon with her hand, and a white pigeon landed on her arm.
"My apologies. It’s a white pigeon for communication."
Celicia gave Albert a meaningful glance, then opened the letter brought by the pigeon right in front of him.
"Oh?" Celicia’s brow arched slightly. "To think such a thing happened. It’s truly hard to believe."
"What happened?" Albert asked curiously.
"Marquis Dion’s mansion was actually attacked by thugs. They say half the mansion is in ruins. How terrifying."
Celicia’s tone suggested fear, but her emotionless face showed no sign of it.
However, the man sitting across from her showed a flash of sheer terror in that instant.
"What did you say? The Marquis’s mansion was attacked?"
"Yes, I just received the news. I suppose that fire... is Marquis Dion’s mansion."
Celicia handed the letter to Albert. He took it eagerly, but then his movements froze. He realized Celicia was tilting her head, observing him.
"How strange. Brother should have no connection to Marquis Dion, so why do you look so concerned?"
"I... I’m just in disbelief," Albert forced himself to calm down and explained. "After all, it’s a Marquis’s mansion. For it to be openly attacked is simply preposterous."
"Yes, preposterous," Celicia nodded understandingly. "However, since it is a Marquis’s mansion, it shouldn't be that easy to breach, right?"
"Exactly. It won't be that easy."
Albert agreed, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself. He murmured under his breath, "That’s right. Sharp is no fool, and the defenses are more than sufficient. If it’s a frontal assault, the opponent couldn't possibly achieve their goal so easily. Impossible..."
"Is that so?"
Celicia continued to rest her chin on her hand, looking out the window with a half-smile. "A frontal assault, huh..."
*
"Ugh... that hurts. Damn that Sharp, he doesn't know how to be gentle with a cute lady."
In the drawing room, Wei'er, having freed herself, rubbed her wrists and pouted.
At her feet lay the long rope Sharp had used to bind her. It still shimmered with a faint magical glow, proving it was no ordinary rope.
But...
"I told you my grandfather is a Truth-Tier Grand Magister. How could I not have a way to deal with something like this?"
Wei'er stood with her hands on her hips, laughing triumphantly.
However, she stopped after a couple of dry laughs. It was a pity there was no audience to witness her being cool.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
Wei'er gingerly opened the door and looked outside.
What met her eyes was a mansion that was nearly half in ruins.
"Wow, how tragic. Did a demolition crew come through here? With a commotion that big, I hope that Muen Campbell kid didn't get beaten to death." Wei'er showed a rare bit of concern for that annoying playboy.
But this was better.
With the mansion in ruins, there was naturally no one else left here.
Wei'er took out an exquisite compass and navigated through the debris.
Soon.
Following the compass’s guidance, Wei'er found a button-sized positioning magic device in a hidden corner.
"Yep, this should be the place."
She looked up, scanning her surroundings.
This area was more chaotic than any other, yet she could still sense the sophisticated magic arrays laid out here.
One had to admit that Sharp was indeed a very cautious man. Even when blinded by rage and resorting to beastification, he hadn't forgotten to restart the magical mechanisms here.
But...
"If the same method worked the first time, it’ll work the second time. Did he really not figure that out?"
Wei'er rummaged through the ruins and pulled out a handle-less... umbrella.
Along with a special magic device that even her Truth-Tier grandfather would likely marvel at for its ingenuity.
Holding the umbrella and activating the device, she continued forward, her path unobstructed.
Finally, she stopped and looked down at the aged body.
After a long silence.
"Oh my, to be able to do whatever I want with a Marquis’s body..."
Wei'er cupped her cheeks, her face flushing like a blooming flower as she wriggled with excitement.
"Just thinking about it is a little thrilling."