Chapter 286: Demon!

Time passed. Six days later, at Saint Maria Academy.

Today’s weather was still remarkably good. As if, after months of unending snow, the heavens had finally grown merciful and bestowed the world with a long stretch of warmth.

After a full week of sunny days, much of the academy’s accumulated snow had melted. Everything looked as if it had been washed clean, glittering under the sunlight. Tomorrow was the academy’s departure day, and with that important day about to arrive, every student ought to have been wearing a blissful smile, awaiting their return to houses warmed by crackling hearths, there to reunite with family who loved them.

But, on the quiet outskirts of the plane trees, a girl with loose, wavy hair paced in restless hesitation.

Clutching the hem of her clothes, she would, from time to time, crane her neck to peer into the depths of the grove—only to startle back in terror the instant a violin’s notes drifted from within, as if some terrifying monster lurked in those trees.

“Come on, Lise, you can do this.”

Lise clenched her fists and kept cheering herself on:

“Muen Campbell is nothing to be afraid of!”

She drew several deep breaths, forcing her unease to settle; a bit of color finally returned to her pale little face.

When she lifted her head and looked back into the grove, her bright, watery eyes were filled with resolve.

Lise was a first-year student, only just enrolled this year.

She had approached this unknown academy life with boundless anticipation, but once she entered, she discovered things were not nearly as beautiful as she had imagined.

All because of that person—Muen Campbell!

Before enrollment, her esteemed father and elder brother had warned her never to approach Muen Campbell. He was the shame of the nobility!

She had heard of Muen Campbell’s infamous reputation; her cousins—male and female—had already painted a vivid picture of his disgraceful behavior at the academy, so she had resolved early on never to cross paths with that famous duke’s son.

But after arriving, she found Muen Campbell everywhere.

He was on the newspapers; he was the topic of idle chatter among classmates; even the girls’ pure “teapot gatherings” and pajama heart-to-hearts often mentioned him.

At first, it was all about the real, frightening side of Muen Campbell—how many boats he had one foot on, how many battleships he had sunk. Lise thought taking such things as harmless gossip wasn’t so bad.

But gradually, she found the tone of the girls’ conversations changing.

They began talking about Muen Campbell’s handsome looks, his courage, his beautiful naked body, and the precious virtue of a rake pulling up at the edge of the cliff and turning back. Some even started fantasizing—maybe they should try going out with him.

How could that be?

How could a person suddenly change so drastically?

Her esteemed father had once told her that a person’s fate is set at birth.

For instance, we nobles are born bearing the Blood of Glory, and thus our destined fate is to guide and lead those commoners whose lowly blood is likewise predetermined.

Even commoners who lack etiquette and upbringing can, under our guidance, shine as they ought.

Yet a house like the Campbells, who possess no Blood of Glory, whose blood in their bones is no different from those commoners, who only rose suddenly a few centuries ago on the Empire’s tide of expansion—how could they suddenly reform themselves and become as elegant, merciful, and kind as a true noble?

It had to be a façade.

She wanted to expose that façade, but whenever she patiently tried to explain to others, all she got were eye-rolls. Some ordinary folk with no noble blood even hurled harsh words at her—though she herself was always so courteous.

It was terrifying. People clearly hadn’t been like this before.

It had to be because of that person, Muen Campbell!

And what had happened not long ago confirmed her suspicions.

After hiding for a whole term, that Muen Campbell finally bared his fangs. Though she hadn’t personally seen it for certain reasons, she could reconstruct the truth from her cousins’ accounts.

“Muen Campbell is a monster, a monster through and through!”

Cousin Luns, lying in his hospital bed, slammed the frame in anger and snarled:

“A monster, do you get it? I don’t even mean his strength—I mean how deep he hid it! He deceived everyone!

Getting that strong in a single term? I don’t buy it! He was holding back before. He’s got some scheme. He’s despicable!”

“Exactly—despicable!”

Blonki was furious as well: “That Muen Campbell is a petty, vile man. So what if he beat us? His heart is filthy. Aside from that nice-looking yellow hair, he’s still good-for-nothing!”

“Don’t say his name!”

Doranmus jolted:

“Don’t bring up that disgrace to nobility! My wound is acting up again!”

“What, yellow hair? Where’s the yellow hair!”

Orze sat up from his bed and roared:

“I’m going to duel that damned yellow-hair one-on-one! I’ll avenge my beard, I—hey, what are you doing? Don’t hold me back!”

Before Orze could finish, the nurses hoisted him—bed and all—and carried him off to the intensive care unit.

“Doctor, Bed Eight’s having another episode!”

“Waaah—I’m not sick, I’m not sick... let go of me!”

“Hurry, increase the dosage!”

Watching the distant figure of her cousin Orze, Lise’s eyes brimmed with tears.

Why had it come to this? Weren’t noble challenges, steeped in etiquette and gentlemanly spirit, supposed to stop short of going too far? Yet that Muen Campbell had struck so heavily!

He really was a demon!

And the changes didn’t stop there. Not long ago, Lise learned from her lady mother’s letter about events in Belrand’s Lower City.

Around this time each year, when winter snow blanketed the streets, she would follow her lady mother to the Lower City to distribute food to the poor.

It was only rough black bread, but as long as she saw those poor people’s satisfied smiles, Lise felt, deeply, the meaning of the Blood of Glory flowing within her.

But according to her lady mother, this year all noble almsgiving had been forbidden.

The reason was the newly appointed Administrator of the Lower City.

Not only did he refuse to let merciful nobles go down to distribute food, he even bewitched His Majesty into issuing an order, forcing many nobles to sell the grain they had painstakingly stockpiled over the whole year to him at a price so low it was practically a total loss—after which he resold it in the Lower City.

Too cruel!

Too despicable!

All that just to make money!

When she thought of those poor souls unable to get free bread, forced to spend their own meager coins to buy grain, Lise nearly wept out of pity.

And according to her lady mother, that Administrator of the Lower City couldn’t possibly have done this alone. Behind it was the shadow of the Campbell faction!

And at present, the only Campbell with a say in Belrand... was that Muen Campbell!

Everything—was because of that demon!

So, from that moment, Lise made up her mind.

She would stand up. She would challenge Muen Campbell!

She would become the hero who saved everyone.

She knew she was no match for Muen Campbell, but with the gemlike qualities of her noble birth, she would make Muen Campbell feel utterly ashamed!

Reining in her thoughts, Lise finally gathered enough courage.

She stepped into the grove.

Following the lilting violin, she forced her way along the path grown muddy from meltwater, ignoring how the white hem of her dress was stained by mud and torn by branches, until at last she reached the source of the music.

She saw that hateful blond man sitting at ease /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ on a bench, enjoying the lovely melody.

His blond hair, dyed by the sunlight filtering through the trees, shone especially bright; that calm, handsome face, eyes closed, made even Lise lose herself for an instant.

And before him, a girl stood still, playing the violin. The sound flowed like water, exquisitely beautiful.

He... he was even forcing someone to perform for him? Too vile, Muen Campbell!

Lise shook her head hard, forcing herself back to her senses.

Come on, Lise—this is your moment to display a noble’s elegance, composure, and courage!

Lise took a deep breath:

“Muen Campbell, I—”

At that moment, as if startled, the violin cut off mid-phrase. The girl before Muen Campbell—who, in Lise’s eyes, was being forced to perform—snapped her head around.

Lise’s gaze, too, fell on the performing girl out of reflex.

Mm. Great figure. Better than mine. Especially the chest—magnificent in a way I’ve never seen among my peers. With a figure that good, is she from some noble family too?

And her face...

Mm?

Her face?

This girl... had no face?

In that instant, seeing that blank visage with no features at all, Lise’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Her blood seemed to surge backward straight to her head in a single instant...

Th-this is—

“D—demon!”

A shrill scream rang through the grove.

Remembering the terrifying tales she’d heard since childhood, Lise’s heart was crushed by fear in a heartbeat. Whatever little courage she’d had had scattered utterly.

Muen Campbell—h-he really had ties to demons!

Uuu—t-too scary!

Forgetting her heroic crusade, the girl fled headlong.

...

...

“Hm?”

Hearing the scream echo through the grove, Muen—who had been immersed in the music—finally opened his eyes. He glanced at the disheveled, retreating figure and scratched his chin in puzzlement. Looking to the side at Liya, he realized:

“You scared her.”

“I—I did not!”

Liya hugged the violin and turned back with a huff:

“How am I scary? If anyone was startled by the interruption, it was me!”

“...”

Looking at Liya’s face—as blank as white paper, without a single feature—Muen’s mouth twitched. He couldn’t help but praise:

“Your disguise technique... really has gotten more and more impressive.”

Last time she’d at least thrown on some mosaic; this time she’d gone straight to a sheet of blank paper. She really did look like some faceless demon out of a story. No wonder she frightened the poor girl.

“Heh-heh, right?”

Liya swiped a hand across her face, revealing a cute, pretty little countenance, and said smugly:

“I improved it. This time no one will spot a flaw!”

...But your flaw isn’t your face at all...

Muen’s eyes flicked to a certain place and, without changing his expression, he said:

“You’ve been this cautious lately—did someone challenge you too?”

“Mm... In those people’s eyes, I’m a soft persimmon now.”

Liya hesitated, then replied softly: “I don’t much like fighting, so I can only do it this way.”

“What about Ariel?”

Muen’s brows knit slightly:

“With her around, they still dare to harass you?”

“She...”

Liya bit her lip and said in a whisper:

“She’s been training hard lately.”