Episode 9
He might’ve been a direct bloodline, but he had no real authority at headquarters. He was nothing more than an outcast.
So how dare Sylvan treat the administrator like that?
Earlier, when Max stepped in to stop the maids from being punished, it wasn’t out of any great sense of mercy.
If the maids had died, he would have had to report it. And that would’ve turned the whole incident into a mess of finger-pointing and investigations.
It would’ve been blamed as negligence on him, the administrator of the Tower’s branch in the imperial capital.
Thankfully, Sylvan backed down when his daughter was mentioned, but that condescending look in Sylvan’s eyes still haunted Max’s pride.
That memory was the final trigger that led Max to accept Marie Feidel’s plan.
Tonight, Galbia Hamruloren, the head of the family, was in high spirits about meeting the Saint and receiving a reward.
But he couldn’t possibly imagine that the “reward” would be the downfall of the country’s very foundation.
Max bared his teeth in a vicious grin.
—
“Mia, did the demonstration go well today?”
“You didn’t hear?”
“Nope… I came straight to see you after finishing treatment.”
“I messed it up. You’ll be disappointed, right?”
“No… Then we’ll just run away together and live outside.”
“Then should I learn black magic from you?”
I burst into laughter before I realized it.
Even when I claimed to have ruined the opportunity he risked his life to create, he remained so calm and trusting. I loved that about Dad.
“Kidding! I didn’t mess it up.”
“I was the best one there, and I even earned the key to meet Grandpa as a reward.”
A faint smile appeared on his face.
It wasn’t a dramatic reaction, but knowing how stoic he usually was, that expression was practically the equivalent of roaring laughter.
“Of course, you’re my daughter. I knew you’d do great.”
“Hehe.”
“But seriously… the reward for winning was just meeting Father?”
“He’s not someone you can easily meet, right?”
“Still, you shouldn’t be forced to meet someone like that…”
Only my dad would talk like that about the mighty Lord of House Hamruloren.
“There was another prize too. Grandpa gave it to me personally.”
“Let me guess—‘Behemoth’s Grape Juice,’ again?”
“Correct.”
It wasn’t often that the Lord handed out pre-ceremony awards to young elites, but when he did, it was usually ‘Behemoth’s Grape Juice.’
There was even a special alcoholic version for adults.
‘They say it boosts dark magic somehow…’
Not exactly a miracle potion, but more like a magic-boosting energy drink.
Totally useless for me, the Saint.
“Well… if it makes Mia stronger, that’s great.”
“Mmhm.”
‘It won’t boost anything, but I hope it tastes good.’
Smiling to myself, I skipped along beside Dad.
His hand dangled in front of me.
I hesitated for a moment, then gently reached out and held it.
Dad looked surprised for a second, then adjusted his grip and held my hand tightly.
Neither of us was used to this. We were still awkward as father and daughter.
Hugging or kissing on the cheek like in some fairy tale? Totally unimaginable.
‘I wonder if the day will come when this kind of affection feels natural…’
Probably too much to hope for, especially for someone like me—a fraud who isn’t even his real daughter.
Still, it was nice to dream.
Dad even kept his promise and ate dessert properly today.
‘If only things could stay like this forever.’
After a peaceful dinner together, the time came for me to meet Grandpa.
‘Honestly, I’m kind of scared to meet him right now…’
Until today, I hadn’t shown any signs of using black magic, and now suddenly I’d displayed tremendous power.
He might find it suspicious.
Of course, there was no way he could know I had white magic instead of black.
In this world, magic couldn’t be identified just by looking. The only way to determine the type or nature of someone’s magic was through specific means.
There were only three situations where someone could discover I had white magic:
1. If they saw me using white magic directly.
2. If the temple used sacred relics to test me.
3. If I healed unnaturally fast and someone recognized the holy light.
The third was the trickiest. If someone saw my wounds closing too quickly, they might grow suspicious.
‘I absolutely cannot get injured.’
Likewise, no one could tell whether my black magic was truly from a dark core or something transformed from white magic.
The only way people guessed someone’s core level was by watching the type and strength of their black magic.
‘In my case, I have to convincingly fake a proper core level.’
Because I didn’t have a dark core, but my transformed black magic surged endlessly from white magic, I had to be extra careful not to overdo it.
I needed to deliberately limit the power to match what people expected from someone with a newly awakened Dark Core Stage 1.
The shadow mist I showed earlier was barely passable—but I’d lost some control as I struggled to suppress the excessive energy.
I definitely need more practice.
If Grandpa even sensed something off, I could lose my head. I had to stay sharp.
—
“This way, please.”
A Living Armor, clad in dark ceremonial armor, guided me with a low, echoing voice.
At the end of the corridor stood a towering golden door.
‘So this is the “Golden Demon’s Room.”’
A secret chamber even the Tower’s high-ranking members couldn’t enter without permission. Only the family head could stay there.
“Go ahead.”
I nodded and took out the key I had received, gently inserting it into the lock.
Amazingly, the key dissolved into mist and the door creaked open by itself.
The room was darker and gloomier than I expected.
Taxidermied chimeras, bones of unknown monsters—
It looked like a museum of black magic horrors.
‘If I were a normal kid, I’d probably be sobbing in terror.’
Even I, who was used to such things, flinched instinctively.
At the center sat Meiten Hamruloren, the head of the family—my grandfather—reclining in a chair and reading a book.
‘Even now, he looks exactly like the archetypal villain.’
Like a corrupt prime minister in a fantasy novel, scheming behind the scenes.
With his slender build and sinister features, he bore a strange resemblance to Dad.
“Hello, Grandfather.”
I made sure to bow politely, not wanting to give him any excuse to criticize me.
Grandfather slowly lifted his gaze and looked my way, then spoke in a deep, quiet voice.
“…Child.”
His tone was calm, but his voice was chilling.
“Did you use blood magic?”
I was mentally prepared for the question, but my body tensed anyway.
‘If I hadn’t been ready, I might’ve started crying out of panic.’
To jump straight to the core like that—he really was terrifying.
I couldn’t let his pace control the conversation.
I smiled sweetly.
“What makes you think that?”
“You hadn’t awakened your Dark Core yet. Then suddenly, you performed that kind of magic. That’s not normal.”
“Maybe I awakened it earlier and just kept it hidden.”
“For what reason?”
“So I wouldn’t get into arguments with the other kids before the demonstration.”
“…Besides, you can’t cast powerful spells with blood magic. Isn’t that right?”
“You’re a clever one.”
Grandfather rested his chin on his hand and shifted his posture.
A dark, heavy aura began to emanate from him.
“Not only do you know about blood magic… you even know its limitations.”
“Most children wouldn’t even know what blood magic is, let alone that it can’t be used for large-scale spells.”
He was pressing hard, like a chess player going in for the checkmate.
He must’ve thought I had slipped up and revealed my true knowledge.
Which was exactly what I intended.
Still smiling, I showed no sign of faltering.
