Chapter 50
Allen chuckled softly at Ronnie’s frustrated words.
“Maybe so.”
Then he leaned in close, sniffing at her like he was teasing. Ronnie grew gloomier at his behavior and shot him a glare.
Wasn’t this the time to say, “No, that’s not true”? Ah… maybe what she’d said was too much like a loaded question.
Feeling embarrassed, Ronnie sniffed at herself. Mortifyingly, there was no smell at all.
Allen no longer bothered to keep his polite distance. Of course, his crooked attitude remained unchanged.
Where had her gentle Allen gone?
The sudden shift in his demeanor was jarring. When she had nearly died, he had been so frantic with worry, but now he was only busy teasing her. Ronnie glared at him again, a timid act of rebellion.
Just then, Freddy spoke up with a cheerful expression.
“Thanks to the young lady, I feel like I’ve gotten to see every rare monster there is. Hahaha.”
He had been acting overly friendly for a while now, but it was obvious—he just wanted an excuse to join Allen’s conversations. Ronnie sniffed herself once more, then dropped her head miserably.
It must be cursed energy, without a doubt. Otherwise, why would monsters rush at her as though they’d been signaled?
Seeing Ronnie’s gloom, Jack tried to comfort her.
“There’s no smell. You’re just unlucky, so don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Jack. You’re the only one I can count on. But—your arm, is it all right now?”
“Yes. Lady Armis used healing magic on me last time, so I recovered quickly.”
“Lady Armis? Do you mean Viena Armis?”
Freddy’s expression hardened as he pressed Jack, as if to confirm whether it was the Viena he knew.
“Yes, that’s correct. I heard she came to represent the Armis family in the Crimson Forest.”
“I see…”
Freddy nodded slightly, sinking into thought. He clearly hadn’t known she was here.
Just as he was about to ask more about her, someone approached, calling out.
“Well, look who it is.”
The voice sounded vaguely friendly, but the reality was not. Ronnie frowned as she recognized the newcomer. The man greeted Freddy with a show of courtesy, then looked at Ronnie with arrogant eyes.
“Harry Romanit.”
“Well, well. You even said my full name. They said you’d changed, but right now you just look like a complete fool.”
“What brings you here?”
Allen stepped in between him and Ronnie, his tone wary. Harry flinched for just a moment at Allen’s cold voice, but quickly regained his bravado.
“When you see your older brother after so long, you should greet him properly first. Typical bastard behavior, still no manners.”
“We were never close enough to exchange greetings.”
“Maybe not you, but there’s no reason I can’t greet the lady. After all, she’s practically my future in-law.”
Harry shamelessly pointed between the Romanit crest and Allen. To him, it didn’t matter what Allen had suffered in that family. What mattered was the family name—Romanit.
Seeing Harry only invoke family ties when it suited him, Ronnie’s expression turned cold.
Harry Romanit.
The heir to the Romanit family—and the one who had tormented Allen most viciously. He loved using his power to crush Allen beneath him.
Allen had no choice but to hide his abilities because of Harry. He had long understood Harry’s pathetic inferiority complex.
Harry would grab Allen by the hair, shouting that no one in the Romanit family had ever raised a child with white hair. Yet the moment Allen received a Royal grade, he changed his tune.
Publicly, Harry propped Allen up as a Romanit, trying to profit from him. Having a Royal grade within the family was a huge advantage.
And yet, from the look of it, Harry clearly wasn’t pleased. His mocking tone made that much obvious.
“Father says we should have dinner together after the Hunt Festival. Must be nice, even for a bastard, to be useful.”
Harry sneered, apparently jealous that the Marquis of Romanit showed interest in Allen.
Allen, however, looked utterly uninterested—yawning as though only a dog was barking nearby.
Seeing this, Harry’s eyes bulged as he shouted.
“Do you think you can strut around just because the Sharligan family has your back?”
“Tell the Marquis this: stop using me for your political games.”
“What? Am I your messenger pigeon? Say it yourself!”
“Whether you tell him or not, I won’t do as the Marquis wants. So do as you please.”
Harry bristled at Allen’s rejection of the Romanit invitation, his temper flaring. But Allen didn’t seem bothered at all—much to Ronnie’s relief.
Ignoring Harry’s barking, Allen placed a hand on Ronnie’s shoulder and turned to Freddy.
“We’ll be going now.”
“All right. Good work.”
Freddy looked on with interest, clearly noting that Allen wasn’t someone who could be bought with power.
Harry, however, was relentless. Once Freddy left, he went right back to yapping, but Allen’s cold indifference reduced him to nothing more than a dog chasing shadows.
When Harry was finally out of sight, Ronnie stopped walking.
“Are you sure about this? You always endured when it came to the family’s requests.”
“I used to. But I don’t have any reason to anymore.”
Ronnie fell deep into thought.
In the story, Allen had thoroughly exploited the Romanit family. He earned the Marquis’s trust, little by little, until he even stole Harry’s position.
The Marquis was a cold, calculating man. As soon as he realized Harry was unfit to be heir, he had been ready to hand the title to Allen.
Even in the story, the Marquis was always a mystery. Few lines, no clear emotions.
Once Allen became heir, he destroyed everyone in the Romanit family who had tormented him. With that power, he eventually became strong enough to face Ronnie herself. The Marquis always stayed silent throughout.
That silence was what freed Allen from Ronnie’s relentless bullying—because she only ever targeted those without power.
Even if I stopped bullying him, he must still carry resentment toward his family. Why would he throw away such a perfect chance now?
Ronnie couldn’t read Allen’s true intentions. When she looked at him curiously, he asked,
“Why? Do you want me to stay a Romanit?”
“No, it’s just… it feels like my Allen has gotten a little gentler.”
“Gentler, huh…”
Allen repeated her words, wearing an unreadable smile.
Why does it feel like there’s some scheme behind that fake smile?
Nervous, Ronnie grabbed his arm.
“No fighting. If something bothers you, talk it out first, don’t go using your fists. Promise?”
At her sudden nagging, Allen looked puzzled.
“Seems like it’s not me who’s gotten gentler, but you. Back when we were kids, you used to tell me: if someone bothers you, get stronger and make them kneel. If you want something, take it by force.”
That’s true. Back then, I was the one who tried to take you from the Romanits, to mold you however I pleased.
Allen’s twisted response left Ronnie sighing.
“That was just me being immature. It’s been more than ten years since then.”
It felt like listening to embarrassing stories from childhood. Using power to make people kneel and stealing what they had—clearly that had been wrong.
Ronnie didn’t want Allen to be like that. For the past five years, she had tried tirelessly to make him understand.
Allen gave her a smile full of hidden meaning.
“You’re right. The Ronnie now is so different from before—like a completely different person. Isn’t that so?”
“Huh? Oh… yeah…”
Ronnie flinched at his words, as if he somehow knew she wasn’t the same person as before—Sohui.
She tried to act nonchalant as she studied him, but fortunately Allen seemed no different than usual.
After all, only Guinness knew her secret. There was no way Allen could.
Relaxing, Ronnie stopped in front of her door.
“Go on back now. Thanks for walking me here, Allen.”
“Sure. Get some rest.”
Allen released her hand and stepped back. Once Ronnie disappeared inside, the smile slipped off his face as though it had never been there.
He recalled the change in her expression just moments ago, his face tightening with thought.
Something about Ronnie was strange.
