41 – The Final Offer 2

Her offer to grant me the North in exchange for calling off the annulment elicited a derisive snort.

It was readily apparent that Elysia, cornered, was unable to properly assess the situation.

At the same time, the sheer emptiness of her brief statement was, frankly, amusing.

‘She can’t even resolve the problem immediately before her, yet offers the North as a bargaining chip.’

Moreover, the way she spoke as if I actually desired the North was rather absurd.

Suppressing the urge to laugh, I regarded Elysia with a look of pity, prompting her to justify her offer.

“Damien, you are merely the youngest son of the Karsaril family. To put it differently, you are a being whose standing within the family will soon disappear.”

Generally speaking, that was true.

Usually, a fierce competition unfolds for the position of heir, with the eldest son, or their designated successor, systematically eliminating their rivals.

However, I had absolutely no interest in becoming the head of the family, and Damien’s brother did not appear to be that kind of person either, so in my case, it was incorrect.

“Therefore, there is a high probability that you will one day be banished from the estate. It would be more ideal, instead, to operate with the influence of the North at your back.”

To that, I responded with a mocking laugh.

“The influence of the North? It doesn’t seem like it would amount to much.”

“The North may be barren, but if you consider the speed of its development once warmth returns, the possibilities are boundless. Furthermore, unlike the South, it is rich in mana stone resources. I don’t believe it’s all bad.”

She was saying something, yet it didn’t really resonate, and I nodded half-heartedly.

Even if I were banished, I would still receive support from the Karsaril family, rendering her offer completely meaningless.

Above all, to develop the North, I would have to pour all my energy into it, making the entire idea feel quite unnecessary.

Just as I was concluding that her proposition held no appeal, a peculiar sense of déjà vu washed over me.

A peculiar sensation, wasn’t it almost as if Elysia wasn’t truly making this offer to broker a deal?

With that feeling nagging, I threw out a line, hoping to unravel the source of this déjà vu.

“Alright, let’s say that’s true. How do you plan to hand over the North to me? Last I checked, the Winterhaven head doesn’t seem to have you pegged as the successor.”

“That’s simple. Undo the annulment, and it’s possible if you bring warmth to the situation.”

Silently nodding to hear more, I watched Elysia continue, her words tinged with urgency.

“The eldest son’s core members will fiercely object, but with the benefits warmth will bring, I can negotiate and draw others in, suppressing them. If you just bring warmth, I can ascend as head and hand over the North to you.”

…The strange déjà vu lingered.

That feeling clung to my mind, refusing to release its grip.

To shake it off, I said the thing Elysia would hate to hear most.

“Okay, sure, but the biggest problem is, proving you didn’t create the rift, isn’t it?”

The words hit home. For a split second, Elysia visibly stiffened, glaring at me, clearly resentful.

But she quickly composed herself, feigning composure as she responded.

“I didn’t, so it’s fine. Do you perhaps have a reason to believe I created the rift?”

The moment I heard those words, I understood Elysia’s intention behind presenting this proposition.

‘She was throwing out this absurd deal, hoping to extract information about the rift from me.’

She’d presented an outrageous offer.

Wasn’t it a means to agitate my emotions in some way, drawing out my true intentions? I chuckled dryly at the thought.

Reaching that conclusion, I decided to deny Elysia what she desired, choosing instead to respond with the most outlandish answers possible. I calmly replied,

“It’s amusing.”

“…Pardon?”

Elysia, clearly not expecting such a response, stared at me, bewildered.

I met her gaze, nonchalantly stating,

“Anything else to say?”

“…Are you simply certain that I created the rift because it’s amusing?”

“Yep.”

Deliberately spewing nonsense to provoke her, she eventually pressed her lips together and tightly shut her eyes.

Observing her expression, I smirked, slowly reaching out to tap the documents, saying,

“So, shall we sign now?”

“…Please, just a moment. One last question. How did you spirit away Dale?”

At her words, I feigned ignorance, putting on an innocent face as I said,

“Me? Dale’s on your side. Weren’t you the one who smuggled it out?”

“……”

At my brazen response, Alicia, seeming to realize I’d seen through her scheme, averted her gaze and finished signing.

Continuing the conversation would only waste time, it seemed, yielding nothing of value.

‘Is this truly the end of it all?’

Feeling a touch peculiar, I carefully tucked the hammer I had raised back into my coat, when a voice called out from in front.

“You will come to regret throwing away all the chances I gave you.”

At those words, I wordlessly drew the hammer out once more.

Seeing this, Alicia fell silent, avoiding my eyes.

I chuckled softly, a jest, and then calmly stepped out of the building.

*

Stepping outside, an unexpected figure was waiting for me.

‘…The Saintess?’

A woman in a pure white robe, her figure suspiciously curvy, was calmly waiting for me, which struck me as odd, causing me to hesitate.

The Saintess, Rewen, upon spotting me, slightly lifted her robe and offered a greeting.

“Demian-nim, I apologize for this sudden visit. Would you perhaps be free to speak for a moment?”

“Ah, yes.”

At my reply, Rewen gave a demure smile, then led me away as she spoke.

“Just follow me. Ah, by the way, Liana couldn’t come with us because she’s busy calming Dale down right now.”

“…Calming?”

“Ahaha. There are… circumstances.”

Rewen giggled playfully, heading down a quiet road.

I was bewildered, unable to understand why Rewen, who must be busy enough with Dale, would come to find me herself.

After walking for some time, Rewen pointed to a small house that seemed completely ordinary and said to me,

“Please, come in here.”

Nodding, I stepped inside, and what I saw was a place surprisingly full of signs of life.

The sight was somehow strange to me, and as I looked around, I noticed a romance novel that Lorein loved lying on the table.

‘Is that what’s popular these days?’

I saw Siren reading that the other day too. Seems like it’s a must-have for women.

It was around the time I was thinking this was all rather curious that Liana’s voice sounded from behind me.

“Aren’t you being a little *too* obvious with your staring? Even if this is the Saintess’s room.”

“…?”

“Well, technically, it’s her hobby room. But that’s practically the same thing, right?”

*So that’s* why it was a bit messy?

I was in the midst of thinking that this was a little different from the image of Saintess Llewellyn portrayed in the original novel, when Llewellyn, who had followed me from behind, spoke to Liana, hesitantly.

“Li, Liana… you don’t have to say things like that.”

“Heehee.”

A scene unlike the original was unfolding, again and again.

There had been no depiction in the original of the Saintess and Liana being close, nor of the Saintess reading romance novels.

Nor was there any description of Alicia being a character who acted to fulfill the North’s gains and her own need for recognition.

I was lost in thought for a moment, considering how different the actual appearance was from what lay beneath, when Llewellyn, noticing this, began to tidy up in a somewhat flustered manner, saying to me,

“P, please sit here.”

Then, quickly tidying things, she smiled awkwardly and said,

“I’ve been so incredibly busy lately…”

“Don’t worry about it. My room is the same way.”

“Oh, really?”

A lie. In the first place, my room was constantly being cleaned by the servants.

And when the servants were busy, Syren would come and clean the room spotless, so there was no reason for it to ever be dirty.

But there was no need to say all that, so I glossed over it with a lie. Llewellyn took a deep breath and broached the main subject with me.

“Ahem, anyway, back to the main point… As a result of my investigations so far, I’ve been able to uncover the fact that black mages are, perhaps more than one might expect, deeply embedded throughout society.”

“For example?”

At my question, Llewellyn’s expression hardened slightly as she said,

“The most prominent example is, of course, the Order’s volunteer organization.”

Black mages and the Order’s volunteer organization.

As I reeled from that combination, two things that seemed utterly impossible to reconcile,

Llewellyn looked at me and continued in a serious voice.

“Under the guise of volunteering, the Order’s volunteer organization is acting as if it’s helping the homeless, but in reality, it is capturing them. And it plays the role of selling them off to black mages.”

Lewin’s words were met with a nod of agreement from Siren, who was standing nearby.

“That’s right. I was taken in a similar way.”

“…Pardon?”

Lewin, taken aback by Siren’s words, seemed to remember something. He was just about to ask something when a loud wail erupted from the side.

“Waaah. Dammit. I’m a man… why is this happening to me?”

Curious, I glanced over to see Desun, face down on the table, clearly deep into his cups.

He must have been drinking heavily for quite some time, as his face was flushed crimson. He started scratching at the desk, whining all the while.

“That son of a b*tch… Damian, you piece of trash. You extra!”

“Oh dear. He’s at it again. Please, calm yourself.”

“If it was *you*! Huh? Would you calm down?!”

“I’m a woman, so I wouldn’t know?”

“…That’s! That’s true.”

What on earth was he doing? I sighed, trying to ignore it, but then a funny idea struck me and I told Liana,

“Film this. We’ll show it to him when he sobers up.”

“Oh. That’ll be fun.”

Liana seemed quite pleased with the suggestion, as a smile blossomed on her face while producing a crystal orb.

Shaking my head at the spectacle, I turned my attention back to Lewin’s story, refocusing my gaze.

* * * * *

Elysia, stepping out of the annulment ceremony, immediately furrowed her brow and began a rapid assessment of the situation.

‘What do I do now?’

Originally, she had two remaining options.

The first was to catch Dale, revealing the truth or, failing that, pinning the blame on him to clear her own name.

The second was to extract information from Damian and then manipulate key figures to ensure they wouldn’t abandon her.

But the first had failed, and the second had only been partially successful, effectively eliminating all viable choices.

Therefore, she needed to find a new option or something that could shake things up, but no matter how hard she racked her brain, nothing came to her. Her mind felt a tangled mess.

‘…For now, it’s best to lay low until something comes to mind.’

Having failed to find Dale, investigators would surely be dispatched to find her soon.

It would be wise to stick to alleyways where she was less likely to be seen.

And so, walking through places investigators were less likely to reach, a letter she carried inside her cloak suddenly surfaced in her mind.

“… Artificial Sun.”

An impossible proposition, yet if even a sliver of his proposal proved true, it would be a trump card, one that could “turn the entire situation on its head.”

If he could create it, the key figures of the North would find it remarkably difficult to abandon him.

Exploiting warmth as leverage, perhaps he could even secure the position of Head of the House.

Reaching that conclusion, he drew the letter from his breast pocket, a decision made.

He would accept the offer to create an artificial sun.