Chapter 26
“No, but still… We lived together for months. Isn’t it natural to feel hurt if she acts like she’s so bothered by me?”
Just then, his aide, Orwell, stepped into the room.
Noticing the Duke of Clasta repeatedly sitting up and lying back down on the sofa alone, Orwell frowned and asked cautiously,
“…What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to figure out why she turned me down.”
“…Pardon?”
“Our daughter. She went out today, so I asked if I could come along—and she refused.”
Setting some documents down on the desk, Orwell replied in a casual tone,
“Guess she just didn’t want company.”
A chill suddenly ran down Orwell’s spine.
When he turned his head, the Duke of Clasta was smiling faintly at him.
Orwell quickly changed his tune.
“Haha. Maybe it’s because you’re too handsome, my lord. She probably feels too self-conscious walking next to you.”
“Does she strike you as the type to fuss over something so trivial?”
Damn it. And what am I supposed to say to that?
Even when he tried to read the duke’s mood, it was never enough.
Orwell silently resolved that this year, he would hand in his resignation.
The duke didn’t seem to expect a real answer anyway, because he sank back into the sofa.
With a long sigh, he muttered,
“…It’s difficult.”
“What is?”
“Just… our daughter.”
“Don’t you think you’re overthinking this? You only brought her here in the first place to avoid all that nagging about your successor.”
Orwell wasn’t wrong.
Ariel was doing perfectly fine.
At first, many in the house opposed her, but after she displayed her outstanding swordsmanship by slaying monsters, everyone welcomed her as the heir.
She was well-liked among the knights, diligent by nature, and steadily improving her skills without needing to be told.
Occasionally, the knight commander Swell—whom the duke had entrusted with her training—would send reports, always praising her as a genius and marveling at her swordplay.
She never pestered him for anything, either.
Quiet, clever, and graceful—she was the perfect image of an heir that he wanted.
“…Still, I thought we’d grown a bit closer.”
She was the kind of child who never showed pain, even when she was hurt.
So when she’d faked an illness, he’d thought maybe they’d become closer.
“Did you want to get close to her?”
Orwell widened his eyes in surprise.
“Not exactly… It just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
Then, for some reason, the duke gave Orwell a look and said,
“You really are a cold man, you know that? We’re living under the same roof—don’t you think it’d feel bad to be disliked?”
Wait, since when did you care about things like that?
Warmth?
Wasn’t that something you only built up so you could stab someone in the back later?
Who was it again who coldly rejected a young lady he’d known for over ten years when she confessed, asking if she was just bored these days?
And who was it that used to say, “If someone hates me, I’ll make sure they have a proper reason to,” before tormenting them?
Orwell was so baffled, he couldn’t even speak.
“No, this won’t do.”
The Duke of Clasta sprang to his feet.
“…Where are you going?”
“I think our daughter doesn’t know just how great the Duke of Clasta really is. And her lack of greed is probably because she grew up in an orphanage.”
“…So?”
“When it comes to winning children over, nothing works better than a gift.”
They’d searched all day, but still hadn’t found the chalan flower.
Even the last shop they’d been referred to gave the same answer:
“I’m afraid we don’t have any in stock. It might come in next spring when it blooms… but reservations are backed up. If you reserve now, you’ll likely have to wait three years.”
It was rare and had great medicinal value, so of course it was in high demand.
“Three years is far too late…”
If she wanted to properly set up her trading company, she had to get the medicine to Runi as soon as possible.
Do I really have to climb a mountain for this?
“Hmm… Judging by your clothes, you’re a noble, aren’t you? There might be a way to get it.”
“What way?”
“You know about the martial tournament the capital is holding in a few days to commemorate the subjugation festival?”
Now that he mentioned it, she recalled hearing about a tournament where young nobles fought each other.
“I heard the winner’s prize is a chalan flower.”
She hadn’t planned to participate, but it seemed she had no choice now.
When they stepped outside, Mary spoke up.
“Milady, are you going to enter the martial tournament?”
“Yes.”
“You’re strong, so I’m sure you’ll win! I’ll cheer for you! By the way, are you hungry? There’s a place nearby that sells delicious tarts—want to go?”
“Sure.”
Following Mary’s lead, she entered the tart shop.
While she was scanning the menu, a scruffy-looking man staggered in, reeking of alcohol.
Hunched over and trembling, he looked unwell at first glance.
“Sir, what brings you here?”
The man ignored the employee’s voice, keeping his head down and one hand over his face as he stood still.
Wait… that’s—!
She could see the familiar trace of dense, shifting darkness near him—something she’d encountered just a few days ago.
“Sir?”
“Shut up!”
Thud!
It sounded like a watermelon being smashed.
At the same time, the employee’s head… was gone.
“Kyaaah!”
Following the scream, she saw the employee’s body slumped against the wall—his head embedded in it.
“What the hell is that?!”
“He—he killed someone!”
“Call the knights!”
“Who are you?!”
The alarm rang shrilly, likely triggered by someone calling for help.
The shop erupted into chaos—people screaming, running, or trying to fight back.
“Too noisy, too noisy, too noisy! Every last one of you! You’re all so damn loud!”
The man lifted his face.
Black, shell-like armor began to spread across it, his eyes shot through with red veins.
In the blink of an eye, he transformed into a massive spider.
“Wh-what is that?!”
“He—he turned into a monster!”
People tried to run, but the floor was covered in webbing, pinning them in place.
Just then, a knight stepped forward, sword in hand.
“Everyone, don’t worry! I’m with the capital knigh—”
Before he could finish, the spider’s leg sliced his body apart.
It happened too fast for the eye to follow.
“I told you… I told you to be quiet.”
Only now did the crowd’s faces truly pale.
“M-Milady…”
Mary clutched at her sleeve.
“Shh.”
She scanned the shop, noting the webs strung throughout—so thin and transparent they were invisible without magically heightened senses.
To set this up in the few moments he entered…
This one was far stronger than Bayron.
And of course, he blocked the entrance.
That meant she couldn’t secretly evacuate people.
Not that they could run with all this webbing anyway.
People’s feet stuck fast; even twisting with all their strength, they couldn’t move.
“Stay still,” the spider ordered in a chilling voice.
After what they’d just seen happen to the knight who ignored him, no one dared disobey.
Satisfied, the spider continued,
“You’re all too noisy. All you do is huddle together and yap, louder than a barking dog.”
The only sound left was his own.
“Good. I like it. Just like this—don’t even breathe loud enough for me to hear. If anyone makes a sound, they’re the first to die! Heehee! Heeheeheehee!”
Becoming a demon didn’t require insanity, as far as she knew.
But just like Bayron, this one didn’t seem all there either.
“Now then, who will it be first? Hm? Which one of you in this shop? Heehee, heeheehee…”
People froze in awkward half-crouches, terrified to move a finger.
“Waaah!”
A baby began to cry somewhere in the crowd.
Its mother tried to hush it, but the wails didn’t stop.
“The first prey! Heeheeheehee! A baby’s cry! Perfect! Baby meat is so soft and warm! Eeeheehee!”
Damn.
There was no way he’d leave the child alive.
She had to draw his attention.
“So how long am I supposed to waste my time with a weakling like you?”
Even to her own ears, it sounded infuriating.
The demon’s gaze snapped from the baby to her.
Got him.
“What did you say?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? I said I don’t know how long I’m supposed to listen to some weakling yap when I’m busy.”
“Weak? Weak? I am chosen by the gods!”
“What, did you join some cult? If you’re so strong, why don’t you go pick a fight with the Duke of Clasta? Why prey on ordinary people?”
His many eyes spun wildly.
His blade-like legs swayed menacingly.
“Am I wrong? You know you’d be cut down in an instant by the Duke, so you bully the weak instead.”
With each word, she could feel his anger fixating on her.
The baby’s cries didn’t even register for him anymore.
“You… You dare!”
A leg shot toward her.
She kicked free of her shoes stuck to the webbing and leapt into the air.
Pulling a gold coin from her pocket, she tossed it onto the web—it stuck fast.
Ah, my poor money.
It almost made her cry to waste it, but she had nothing else.
Balancing on her toes atop the coin, she heard the spider chuckle.
“Heeheehee. Fun. But how long do you think you can keep up this circus act?”
He shook the web, sending ripples through it.
“Kyaaah!”
People lost their balance and fell, their hands sticking to the web now as well.
The strand beneath her feet swayed like a wave, but she’d fought on living monsters before—this was nothing.
“That’s all you’ve got? Guess I overestimated you. You’re even weaker than I thought.”
“I’ll kill you! Tear you apart!”
The taunt worked—the spider lunged.
Balancing on a single coin made it hard to attack from here, so she jumped.
“Heeheehee! You can’t escape!”
His long legs pursued her.
Her sword gleamed blue, infused with mana.
Twisting midair, she swung—severing one of his legs.
“Kyaaaaah!”
He screamed and drew his limbs in.
She spotted her landing and threw another coin.
“I won’t kill you quickly! I’ll keep you alive and chew your head to bits!”
I have to end this fast.
If he went berserk, others could get caught in it.
And she only had so much mana left—run out, and she’d be spider food.
I’ll take his head in one strike.
Gripping her sword tightly, she poured mana into it and leapt.
The spider lifted its legs as if to skewer her—but she didn’t care.
She intended to cut through him, legs and all.
But just before her blade fell, the spider’s body split in two.
Time seemed to slow.
Through the widening gap, a familiar face appeared—soft brown hair, gentle green eyes.
Sorry, but you’re the daughter of the Evil Dragon. I can’t afford to leave loose ends.
The cold sensation of a blade cutting through a heart.
A face she could never forget, even in hell.
It was Reghan.
