Chapter 245: Fight!

To my dearest Father and Mother,

I do not know if you are well.

Autumn in Belrand is rather cold—how is it where you are?

The chrysanthemums in the ducal estate have already bloomed; they are at their most brilliant season now.

Since you left home, I have experienced many things alone. I have grown, I have gained, and now I can proudly call myself a true man worthy of the Campbell name.

But—even the strongest man must face hurdles he cannot cross. Even the toughest man cannot defeat a human-shaped mother tyrannosaurus.

Thus, with this letter that exists only in my heart, I entrust my farewell.

Farewell, Father.

Farewell, Mother.

Farewell, my unborn brother or sister.

I only hope you will still remember me.

May there be white breasts and thighs even in heaven. Amen.

“Come then—do whatever you want!”

Watching Celicia, now sunk into deep drunkenness, Muen realized that doing anything unnecessary would only invite more torment.

So he stretched out his neck, flopped back, and chose to lie flat and rot.

Come, don’t pity this fragile flower. Ravage me all you like. I don’t believe you can actually kill me, do you hear!

Muen closed his eyes, bracing himself for the coming storm.

But he waited a long time, and nothing happened.

Only something cold, like a fingertip, poked at his cheek.

He opened his eyes and looked at Celicia, who was poking him with her finger. Squinting, he asked:

“What is it?”

“Do... do you wanna eat, ya?”

Celicia swayed the half-empty gift box, asking sweetly.

Muen blinked.

Damn. Too cute.

Staring at her flushed cheeks, his gaze suddenly turned vacant.

If earlier Celicia had been a pool of melted spring water, then now she was the rising steam above a hot spring.

Not only was the cold aloofness gone—she’d become changeable and soft, combining that lingering icy exterior with an inside that was all fluff and warmth. The sensory impact was even more evocative than that holy maiden gravure shoot.

Sure enough, gap moe was the greatest moe in the world.

But so what if she’s moe? Does moe mean you can make a man do whatever you want?

“I’m not eating.” Muen stiffened his neck.

“Not eating?”

Crack. Celicia’s palm slammed down, crushing the bedframe with one hand. “You sure?”

“......”

Take it back. No matter how cute, she was still a human female tyrannosaurus liable to flip at any time.

“Come on, eat, ya.”

Celicia pinched up a chocolate and personally brought it to his mouth.

Muen’s body stiffened. He lowered his head, staring at the chocolate... or rather, at those two pale slender fingers, like peeled scallions. Compared to the chocolate, they stirred an even greater urge to put them in his mouth.

How should he eat?

Just like this?

Well—it was her who was offering!

Muen leaned forward and suddenly bit down on the chocolate.

Her fingers brushed across his lips, leaving a cool, ticklish sensation that only heightened the chocolate’s sweetness.

“Tasty?”

“Tasty.”

“I think it’s tasty too.”

Celicia drew her fingers back, plucked up another chocolate, and this time fed herself.

Without the slightest care, she slid two fingers between her cherry lips. Her flushed face showed a look of enjoyment, and at the end she even stuck out her pink tongue, slowly licking off the cloying sweetness.

Whether it was from the liquor inside the chocolate or the gradually heating closed room, Muen suddenly felt parched at the sight.

“Want more?”

“Yes.”

“Come, ah...”

“Ah...”

And so, one piece for you, one piece for me—in Celicia’s hand-feeding, the remaining half-box of chocolates was quickly finished between them.

Muen felt hotter and hotter.

The chocolates were like fire burning in his chest and belly. With the alcohol working through him, his cheeks grew feverish; even the world seemed to sway.

Damn it, just what kind of liquor was inside these chocolates?

One or two were fine, but after a dozen in a row—even Muen felt dizzy.

This wasn’t just expensive liquor—it was strong.

Still, he wasn’t like Celicia, that weakling who collapsed after a single piece. Even after so many, he was completely sober.

Yes. Not drunk at all.

“Muen... Muen Campbell...”

On the bedframe, Celicia had eaten even more. Now she was practically melted into a puddle, slumped limply, her eyes completely dazed.

“You... you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Wh-what question?”

“Me... Anna Kaplin... and your little maid... who’s prettier...”

“Wh-why is it still this question?”

Muen’s face twisted in fury.

Once was enough. But again and again? Did they all take him, Muen Campbell, for some pushover?

He slammed a palm on the bed and shot upright, glaring down at her.

“Enough! Shut your mouth! {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} From now on, you’re not allowed to ask that again!”

“Wh-why not?”

“Because... because I said so! If I say you can’t ask, then you can’t ask!”

“Muen... Muen Campbell, are you trying to rebel against the heavens?”

Celicia’s brows suddenly arched. She swayed to her feet, an ice-crystal longsword reappearing in her hand.

“Don’t think just because you can turn into three that you can overturn the sky. As long as I’m here, you’ll never flip me over!”

“Nonsense! I’m the man who will rise above!”

Muen jumped down from the bed, pointing at her nose and snarling:

“You think you’re so great just because you’re a bit stronger than me, a bit higher in cultivation, a bit more noble? Today I’ll show you—who really calls the shots in this house!”

“Hmph, you, ya?”

Celicia swayed on her feet, smirking coldly.

“My swordsmanship isn’t for show!”

“My superpowers aren’t decorations!”

“Then less talk—let’s settle this in a fight!”

“Fine! Whoever wins... gets to be on top!”

In that instant, both tensed like drawn bows.

Eyes locked, like beasts hunting each other, searching for the slightest weakness.

Then—like thunder splitting the heavens, like flames erupting from the earth—they moved at the same time.

Celicia swung her longsword. The blade blurred like shadows—royal swordsmanship at its peak, terrifying in its might, filling the room with flashing afterimages.

And then... she flung the sword out of her own hand.

She tilted her head, staring at her empty palm, her flushed face puzzled. As if wondering why, after swinging and swinging, the sword was suddenly gone, ya?

Muen’s approach was far simpler and cruder—he activated the Alchemy Core. Tenfold Time Slow, initiate!

The core was automatic—no chance of malfunction.

But just as he charged forward—his foot caught on the bedding.

And slipped.

No matter how slow time became, a slip... couldn’t be reversed.

So, in that fleeting instant, he and Celicia exchanged one dazed look.

And as if fate itself could not be defied, the two collided in that absurd way...

And ended up tangled together in a heap.