Chapter 13
When Behemoth’s grapes were served, I couldn’t exactly point out that they were poisoned.
I couldn’t very well accuse the steward in front of Grandfather without any evidence… and if, by any chance, my guess turned out to be wrong, I’d lose a great deal of favor in his eyes.
So, I drank it.
After all, if Grandfather was drinking as well, there was no way anyone would dare use a poison so strong he would notice.
At worst, it would be like in the original story—a toxin that would simply make one bedridden for a while. That much, I had calculated, I could handle.
Of course, if I was the only one who showed symptoms, I wouldn’t be able to raise an issue… which was why I dragged the other kids down with me, like pulling them into the water.
I never imagined it would be a poison that disables magic.
Judging by the symptoms, it was probably a mild toxin that only worked on those with a lower Core stage.
Since I didn’t have a Dark Core at all, it likely had no effect on me.
All the poisons I had studied—especially thoroughly, since it was Father’s specialty—flashed through my mind in quick succession.
There was only one that matched all the conditions.
Gellexo.
If I connected Gellexo’s characteristics with my own constitution… things could become a bit troublesome later.
Then I’d better take steps now to make sure it doesn’t cause problems later…
I quickly organized my thoughts and lifted my head.
“The Behemoth’s grapes were poisoned… It’s just that it didn’t work on me.”
One of the children asked with a puzzled expression,
“Poison didn’t work on you? What do you mean?”
The poisons in black magic were incredibly specialized. Aside from raising your Core stage to reduce the number of toxins you were vulnerable to, there was no such thing as a universal antidote or a perfect defensive spell.
It was like how you couldn’t give the same medicine to patients with entirely different illnesses.
For that reason, Toxicology was considered one of the most scholarly branches of black magic.
You constantly had to develop ways to neutralize existing poisons and, conversely, create new ones your enemies wouldn’t yet know how to defend against.
Father always said he specialized in Toxicology simply because it was fun.
In any case, when you didn’t know what kind of poison the enemy might use, defending in advance was impossible. So it was only natural the others questioned what I meant by “poison didn’t work.”
“Yesterday, while reviewing Toxicology with Father, I chewed on a bunch of herbs. I might’ve accidentally ingested something that acted as an antidote… or there could be another reason.”
At my words, I caught a fleeting look of dismay cross Max’s face.
I seized the moment.
“Which is exactly why… the Behemoth’s grapes must be investigated.”
“Y-Yeah! Investigate them!”
“This is unfair!”
The mood in the parlor turned even uglier.
After a moment, Max seemed to have composed himself. With a calm expression, he declared,
“Now, young lady, young masters—please calm yourselves. If this matter truly warrants it, I will conduct a thorough investigation.”
“Do it quickly!”
“And restore our magic right now!”
The children’s protests rose to a fever pitch, the room buzzing like a disturbed beehive.
“Yes, I will take responsibility for the investigation. First, I’ll need to know where the bottle containing the Behemoth’s grapes from yesterday—”
“You can’t be the one to investigate.”
“…Pardon?”
He turned to me with a dumbfounded look.
I met his gaze squarely and spoke clearly.
“Why should I trust you? You’re one of the suspects who could have tampered with the Behemoth’s grapes.”
“…!”
“Am I wrong?”
I turned my head slowly toward the agitated children, as if asking for their agreement.
They bristled in support.
“Yeah! I’m telling Father!”
“We need to make sure it’s investigated properly!”
“If the steward’s in on it, he might hide the evidence!”
Thank you for saying exactly what I wanted to.
But before I could press the advantage, a low, oppressive voice cut through the air.
“Can you… take responsibility for that statement?”
“…”
“Lady Calmia, I am asking if you can take responsibility for accusing me, the one who oversees the Tower of the Dead, of being a suspect.”
His eyes gleamed with the threat of tearing me apart then and there.
This was far beyond the occasional hostility he had shown me before. This was killing intent.
“You haven’t forgotten that my role is to monitor and report every move of you and the other young masters, have you?”
It was a warning—don’t run your mouth carelessly, or I could ruin you. That was the authority of the great steward.
Even the children whose names hadn’t been mentioned looked visibly frightened.
It was no surprise. In the completely independent facility of the Tower of the Dead, Max ruled absolutely like a king.
For the children, the fear that one word from him could lower their evaluations was only natural.
So, you’re finally showing your true colors.
The sinister energy pressing in on us was enough to make the kids instinctively shrink back.
But I straightened my back, unmoved.
“The one who’ll be taking responsibility… is you.”
“…!”
“Listen, steward. Your authority extends only to managing the facility of the Tower of the Dead.”
“What are you—”
“You have no power over us, the ones studying here.”
I stepped toward him, one measured pace at a time.
“Don’t you dare talk about ‘responsibility’ to a descendant of Hallloren. The one who needs to prove their innocence… is you.”
At some point, the room had fallen completely silent.
Max’s killing intent, combined with my own icy words, had frozen the children in place.
He made no effort to hide the demonic rage on his face.
“You’ve… changed a great deal, Lady Calmia.”
“…”
“Gained confidence after manifesting black magic, have you? I do hope… that confidence lasts.”
“I hope yours lasts, too.”
“What—”
At that moment, the door I had entered through swung open.
“Why is the preparation for the demonstration still not complete?”
A heavy voice, its sheer authority pressing down on the air.
Grand Duke Meitenche Hallloren appeared, eyes sharp as blades.
Several other elders followed cautiously behind him to assess the situation.
As I had expected, Father was among them.
Since Grandfather was present, I couldn’t greet him outright, but when our eyes met, he gave me a faint smile.
“G-Grand Duke, sir!”
Max quickly bowed deeply.
Grandfather waved him off with a look of impatience.
“Enough. Just get to the point.”
True to his nature—hating unnecessary words—he demanded an immediate explanation.
“The six young ones here have suddenly experienced a phenomenon as if their magic has been sealed. To get to the bottom of this, I—”
“And why should that matter?”
Grandfather’s tone was utterly flat.
“Regardless of one’s condition, is that a reason to delay the demonstration?”
“That is…”
He was right. On the day of a demonstration, controlling your condition was your own responsibility.
In my case, if Father hadn’t bought me time yesterday, that would have been the end of it.
“It seems to me that failing to have preparations ready and causing disorder in the tower is a much greater problem.”
Max’s shoulders twitched—Grandfather’s words carried an undercurrent of reproach.
“Forgive me, Grand Duke. It’s just… as this could be a matter that shakes Hallloren’s authority, I felt it necessary to verify it clearly.”
“Hallloren’s authority?”
“Yes.”
Max’s eyes—outwardly deferential, but razor-sharp—flicked toward me.
“Lady Calmia claims… the cause of the magic sealing is the Behemoth’s grapes.”
“…”
“And that I am a prime suspect, and therefore should be removed from the investigation.”
