Chapter 75
Cordelia’s mind froze for a moment at Benjamin’s completely unexpected remark.
“……Pardon?”
She turned to look at him as calmly as she could, but Benjamin’s expression hadn’t changed from just moments before.
“It’s just that the news seemed to be delayed. I couldn’t help but be worried, you see.”
Cordelia’s thoughts spun wildly.
Wait—how does this man know about Tyraine May? Could it be that he also knows about Noah’s connection to that person? But if he doesn’t know, then even bringing it up would only stir up trouble.
She opened her mouth, closed it again, and finally turned her gaze aside.
“Well… it’s not as if he tells me everything.”
She dodged the question with a vague answer, deliberately pretending to look around instead. As if admiring the intricately carved columns along the walls—depicting what she assumed to be scenes from myth—she walked forward, until a large door came into view.
“Ah, here we are.”
When they were about three steps away from the door, Benjamin stretched out his hand. The heavy door began to swing open slowly to either side. Cordelia had been about to ask if it was magic, but before she could, a vast hall spread out before her eyes. Entranced, she stepped inside—and immediately, the massive mural that filled the opposite wall caught her gaze.
The mural depicted two opposing forces.
On the left, an old man with flowing white hair; on the right, a man and woman dressed in pure white. Surrounding the old man was a shapeless black aura, vividly painted in violent colors.
This was Secret, the formless evil born solely from humans, and the nemesis of Fellicié, the god of creation and order. Though humanity was created by the gods, it was said that only humans could produce all the negative emotions that the gods themselves lacked.
A being not born of gods, but of humans. The chaos of original sin.
When Fellicié’s power grew strong, peace came to the world. But when Secret’s power rose, the world fell into chaos. Natural disasters struck, people perished, and the world descended ever further into ruin.
Around the combatants in the mural, storms raged and lightning struck. The storm gathered into a typhoon, then dissipated, leaving only barren, withered land behind.
The old man borne on the winds had eyes sharp and greedy, as though he would cut down everything in existence. Behind his withered body, the darkness—like the sum of all the world’s evils—pressed down cruelly on his frail shoulders.
The man and woman standing against him looked solemn, yet unafraid. Their faintly upturned lips, their piercing and resolute eyes, their hands extended without hesitation, their bodies leaning forward as though they might leap toward the old man at any moment—all of it radiated determination.
From the woman’s outstretched fingers and the man’s prayer-clasped hands, a pure white light flowed, warm and gentle. Above them, as though to shield them, hovered the glowing, translucent image of a blue woman.
It all felt so vivid. For a moment, Cordelia felt as if she were being pulled into that world.
“……Mr. Epperman? Mr. Epperman?”
The distant, hazy voice that had sounded like it was calling from far away suddenly crashed into her ears. The suffocating feeling in her chest lifted, like surfacing from underwater.
Instead of looking at Benjamin, who was asking what was wrong, Cordelia murmured blankly:
“……Amazing.”
“Excuse me?”
She could only marvel. If not for the thin strand of reason reminding her that she was currently in Noah’s body, she might have been jumping and gushing like a child.
Truthfully, she didn’t know all that much about art. But one didn’t need refinement to recognize a masterpiece. Fiddling with her tingling fingertips, Cordelia grinned. Now she understood why the Marquis had commissioned this man.
Yes, it’s no wonder people covet you when you can create something like this.
Just by looking at it, her chest ached, yet at the same time it swelled with an overwhelming rush of feeling.
So this is what it means to be overpowered.
“Are you all right?”
“No. Not at all.”
Cordelia covered her face with both hands and let out a long sigh. Benjamin waited patiently. After glancing at the already-closed door, he turned back to her once her breathing steadied.
“Are you all right now?”
“Y-yes.”
Though she answered half-heartedly, her gaze remained fixed on the mural. Benjamin’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. For all his stern demeanor at times, he was, at heart, fond of pranks.
How could he get her to look at him instead of the painting? That thought crossed his mind, and then an idea came to him.
And his attempt was a resounding success.
“Could that, by any chance, be related to the magic placed on you, Mr. Epperman?”
***
A carriage draped with an elegant curtain embroidered in golden patterns rolled into a spacious estate. After presenting the invitation to the guard, the carriage came to a stop beside the many others already lined up.
Beside the crowded rows of carriages, a rounded hill rose. Avoiding the rain puddles left by days of downpour, one could ascend the stairs leading up the middle of the hill to find a mansion waiting there.
With its red roof, pristine beige walls, and gilded window frames, the mansion was far more splendid than most noble residences.
Noah stepped into the dazzlingly bright interior that nearly hurt the eyes. Guided by a servant to the central hall, he accepted the weight of the many gazes turned upon him with a calm air.
Unfolding the fan he held, he covered his face, glancing around the hall slowly with only his eyes. Though he appeared composed, Noah was in fact a little anxious.
In his original body, his worry had been about having his identity discovered. But in Cordelia’s body, he feared making some mistake instead.
Still, it was better than breaking a promise. He had no desire for Cordelia’s reputation to suffer because of him.
Just who was he supposed to be meeting? Perhaps it would be better to at least greet the host first.
He recalled the host’s name once more: Baron Delos.
As the city grew and merchants thrived, some became wealthy enough to purchase noble titles from ruined aristocrats, seeking social connections or prestige.
Baron Delos was one such merchant-turned-noble, especially well known for his keen interest in the arts. Noah, too, had naturally heard of him. Even for someone reclusive like him, guild work made it impossible not to learn about prominent patrons.
As he walked slowly toward the center of the hall, Noah focused on the murmur of conversations around him. The nobles’ elaborate clothes, hairstyles, and glittering jewelry sparkled under the light with every movement.
The atmosphere was somewhat different from gatherings he had known before. Their attire had a peculiar quality—almost like living paintings.
Though noble fashion was always a display of wealth, many here looked flamboyant to the point of absurdity. Quite a few even wore masks decorated with jewels.
Noah glanced at the dress he wore: deep crimson-purple with gold embroidery, small jewels sewn into the hem. On his wrist gleamed a sapphire bracelet.
He stared at it for a moment. With the initials engraved inside, it had to be something his mother had made.
Maybe he should ask her for another commission soon. He had been worrying about how to properly thank her for the mountain of clothes she’d recently given him, and this seemed fitting. What would suit her best? A ruby would work, but perhaps turquoise wouldn’t be bad either…
He suddenly caught himself and drew in a sharp breath. He was getting far too carried away. Blushing slightly, he fanned his cheeks gently.
“……Huh?”
Between the clusters of people, a woman passed by. When Noah saw her profile—facing straight ahead in the direction he was walking—he froze.
That face, without a doubt…
‘If I describe her, would she look something like this?’
‘Wow, you’re really good at drawing. Yes, that’s exactly what she looks like.’
After the royal banquet days ago, Noah and Cordelia had shared updates and agreed to sort through their important connections—so they could coordinate their stories and avoid mistakes. With the condition, of course, that neither of them would reveal anything to others unless absolutely necessary.
Noah had sketched the faces of three people he knew from the guild for Cordelia, while she described others for him to draw.
One of those sketches now flashed in his memory. Yes—Jasmine Robin, wasn’t it?
If Cordelia had said she’d enjoyed herself at the reading circle, perhaps this Jasmine was the one they were supposed to meet.
Just as he prepared to follow Jasmine, something else caught his eye. He glanced diagonally to the right.
At the table piled high with food, a crowd had gathered. At its center, a middle-aged man laughed heartily, raising a hand glittering with rings, his hat covered in gaudy jewels. At a glance, Noah knew he must be Baron Delos, the master of this mansion.
But the moment that realization struck him, something else felt off. His gaze drifted past the Baron’s shoulder.
Behind him stood a man dressed entirely in black, wearing a white mask that covered his face from the eyes to the bridge of his nose—like the plague doctors said to have appeared during pestilence.
Standing behind such a flamboyantly dressed noble made the figure all the more conspicuous. Other nobles, too, were stealing glances at him.
Just as Noah was about to turn his head away naturally, the masked man lifted his own slightly. Their eyes met.
