Chapter 70
“Ha. I should have seen through that woman’s twisted thoughts from the moment she mentioned Risonia.”
The reception room of the Winchester mansion.
Chenoa, seated on the sofa, had his brows raised in irritation.
Beside him stood Evan, dressed in his uniform.
Chenoa brushed his damp sleeve as if something filthy had gotten on it.
“But tell me, why didn’t you report that your ability had awakened?”
Evan stood silently, as if lost in deep thought.
“I had half a mind to think there was no point in sending spies into Winchester when they all came back with broken legs, and you never sent word even once.”
Crossing one leg over the other, Chenoa continued.
“But at least you managed one thing.”
It was natural that Evan still didn’t meet Chenoa’s expectations.
Even little Sasha Winchester, just seven years old, had already awakened her powers. Evan was twelve.
“In any case, this hostage exchange plan ends here. Since you’ve awakened, keeping the Winchester boy is a loss for us.”
Chenoa’s eyes glinted sharply.
“Unless it were that extraordinary eldest son, of course.”
Jin Winchester indeed bore an uncanny resemblance to Ricardo.
The second son, who was already wielding sword aura at such a young age, was someone to watch out for—but not as much as Jin.
“Since Elysion Academy is nearby, we’ll dispose of that troublesome Risonia—”
“…No.”
Evan’s voice cut in, making Chenoa’s eyebrow twitch.
Chenoa’s gaze turned toward him.
“…”
Evan’s deep blue eyes, clear yet heavy, seemed consumed with thought.
“What did you just say?”
Chenoa’s brows arched sharply again.
“…”
Evan didn’t even meet his eyes.
Chenoa’s face twisted in anger.
The boy was ignoring him.
“Do you think just because you’ve awakened, you can be insolent with me?”
A blue energy began to gather in Chenoa’s hand.
The picture frames on the wall rattled from the power.
“Your strength still falls far short of mine—”
But Evan only lifted his gaze to him with a calm expression.
“I believe the first time I used this against you was in the ninth cycle.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
“You were consumed by jealousy, and you tried to kill me.”
Chenoa rose to his feet, eyes blazing with fury.
“So it’s true your awakening has made you lose your mind.”
“But I never wanted to kill you.”
Evan’s voice dropped to a low murmur.
“…Nor did I want you holding me back.”
In that instant, Chenoa’s world turned black.
“From now on… I’ll move on my own.”
Chenoa tried to unleash his power, but nothing came from his hand.
He looked around. A void of darkness surrounded him, and his abilities wouldn’t respond.
“What is this?! Evan, is this your doing?!”
An unseen Evan’s voice echoed.
“From now on, you can no longer defy me.”
A chilling energy crawled up Chenoa’s spine.
Transparent shackles and cuffs closed around his wrists and ankles.
He wanted to resist, but his mouth wouldn’t open.
Moments later, Chenoa was back in the reception room, facing Evan.
Evan quietly looked down at the power glowing in his hand.
Blue Subjugation.
A manifestation of his awakened power—an ability that allowed him to command obedience.
The stronger one’s gift, the more ways it could be used. The more experience one accumulated, the easier even the most difficult feats became.
“…”
Evan’s eyes fixed on Chenoa.
Chenoa stood dazed, like a puppet with its strings pulled.
“Sit.”
As Evan’s lips moved, Chenoa obediently sat back down.
Chains clinked in Chenoa’s ears, though the battle was only within his own mind.
Moving behind him, Evan spoke in a low whisper.
“I don’t plan to leave here for the time being. So please, cooperate.”
Then Evan walked past him and stood at the reception room door.
It opened, and Elysion appeared.
“Oh, Evan, it’s been a while.”
Evan gave him a slight bow.
“How was life in Winchester…?”
“I’ll be going now. Please, continue your talk.”
At Evan’s quiet tone, Elysion chuckled.
“I see. No time for me, then. Well, we’ll meet again soon.”
After Evan left, Elysion settled into the empty sofa, glancing at Chenoa.
“Heirs are always so arrogant, aren’t they?”
“…”
Chenoa only lifted his teacup in silence.
I patted down the soil of a silver flowerpot where I had replanted an Eracines blossom.
Maya, saying the wind was chilly, draped a shawl over me, while I kept staring at the pot.
It was the only flower that had survived that day’s devastation.
The memory of Vanessa’s final face left me with a heavy heart, but life that survives must keep on living.
“You really are something, kid.”
A familiar voice spoke from behind.
I glanced at Othello.
“You even pray for the soul of a woman who tried to kill you.”
It had only been half a year since he went to Taylors, yet he’d returned taller, though injured.
Meanwhile, I was still a little runt.
“…That’s unfit of a Winchester,” Othello teased with a crooked smile.
“I’m not exactly praying for her.”
I pouted.
“I’m just helping something dying to keep living.”
“So that’s why you saved me too?”
In his deep green eyes, my reflection stared back.
The memory of that desperate moment came rushing back, and I averted my gaze.
When Bahimos had attacked me, Othello had willingly offered his shoulder in my place.
“You’re the unfit one. Disqualified!”
Not very Winchester-like of him either.
Othello smirked as if amused.
“Your arm… is it alright now?”
I looked up at him after a pause.
The wound had been so severe his clothes were soaked in blood.
After bringing him back to the mansion, doctors had been with him constantly—there had been no chance to use potions.
Instead of answering, Othello raised his injured arm high.
It moved as normally as ever.
Only then did relief wash over me.
Because Vanessa had kept him bedridden to deceive others, I hadn’t seen his true condition until now.
“…Thank goodness.”
I pressed a hand to my chest and let out a breath.
Othello, meanwhile, kept watching me.
His face was calm, but his eyes looked burdened, as though he had a thousand unspoken words.
After a long silence, he spoke.
“I’ve never wanted to grow stronger this badly before.”
Leaning slightly down, Othello brushed a hand over my cheek, just past my hair.
“…Because this rabbit keeps provoking me.”
I couldn’t understand what he meant.
All I felt was the chill in his dark green gaze fixed solely on me.
Then he straightened up again and turned away.
The wind blew, and the Eracines in my pot trembled.
I turned my attention back to it.
The flower looked unusually pale.
“We first need to understand what the Key of Mecius is.”
Elysion opened The Origin of the Families before Ricardo and Chenoa.
Through the bracelet on his wrist, letters materialized in the air.
“This seems nothing but a waste of time. Who in the Empire doesn’t know this book?”
Chenoa muttered irritably.
Every member of the Four Great Families had at least once read even a copied manuscript of it.
“As far as I recall, there’s no mention of a ‘key.’”
And he was right. The book was full of cryptic prophecies and metaphors, but no such word appeared.
“I thought the same—until Vanessa wouldn’t stop talking about a key.”
Chenoa’s brows twitched at that.
Elysion twisted a mechanism on his bracelet, and a key-shaped outline appeared in the center of the text.
“These letters form dozens of formulas. They weren’t metaphors—they were ciphers. Solve them, and they point to certain characters. Connect them, and they form the shape of a key.”
Inside that outline were even more words.
“I was impressed. That a thousand years ago, Queln created such a puzzle using arcane linguistic formulas even modern magi struggle to decipher.”
“…”
“And what the prophecy revealed was none other than—”
Ricardo’s brow faintly twitched.
‘Upon the black pond, the time of eternal dawn shall arise.’
Elysion’s gaze sharpened as he asked Ricardo,
“Perhaps this concerns the youngest daughter of House Winchester.”
Ricardo said nothing, simply staring at the words.
No one could guess what lay behind his dark eyes.
“Though its meaning isn’t certain, it’s clear we must all pay close attention to the young lady’s safety.”
Elysion continued.
At that moment, someone banged urgently on the reception room door.
Elysion frowned at the interruption, just as Ricardo seemed about to respond.
The door opened, and Rowen entered, his face pale.
“Your Grace—the young lady…!”
