Chapter 569: Meeting

"The Royal Mage Corps... the former corps commander?"

The firelight rising in the distance illuminated Sharp’s expression as it suddenly shifted from anger to a stiff, ridiculous look.

"How is that possible? Why have I never heard of it?"

Since she was someone following that princess, it was impossible for the marquis’s manor to not investigate. But from the information he had so far, this girl’s parents were just a pair of ordinary wandering mages, and they weren’t even in Berland year-round. As for her grandfather...

Huh? Wait, the information really didn’t mention who her grandfather was?

Could this be real?

Sharp was furious, cursing to himself that the trash Dion kept on payroll after spending so much money really were just a bunch of wastes. They couldn’t even investigate something this basic clearly?

"Hmph, originally I just wanted to get along with you as an ordinary person, but since you insist on forcing me..."

Viel put her hands on her hips, her nostrils practically pointing at the sky.

"I’m not pretending anymore. I’m a third-generation mage! A woman who’ll become the new commander of the Royal Mage Corps sooner or later! And by the way, my grandpa dotes on me the most!"

"......"

At this moment, Viel was arrogant to the extreme—completely different from that bootlicking look she had next to Celicia—so hateful you wanted to punch her bun face.

But Sharp’s cheek twitched, like he’d taken a bite of a hedgehog.

If she really was the former Royal Mage Corps commander’s granddaughter, would he really dare kill her?

Of course he wouldn’t. With the old marquis “dead,” the entire marquis household was in its weakest state. It simply couldn’t withstand the wrath of a Truth-rank grand mage. What’s more, with that other side’s prominent status as the Royal corps commander, they wouldn’t fear the so-called “marquis” title on his head at all.

That was exactly why they had proactively sent this hedgehog into his mouth.

Of course, if what they were plotting progressed smoothly, there would definitely come a day when he would no longer have to fear this kind of threat, and even that grand mage would have to bow his head before him.

But certainly not now.

For that day to arrive, it would at least take...

"Hmph hmph, what, scared now? If you’re scared, I advise you to behave yourself. As long as you finish this dinner with me today, I’ll still be your friendly good friend, but otherwise—"

"I see. I underestimated you."

But facing the increasingly arrogant Viel, Sharp opened his eyes, and surging magic power flowed again.

"However, I think that even if that grand mage dotes on you, it wouldn’t go so far as to vent their anger on my Dion family just because Miss Viel suffers a tiny little injury."

"What do you mean?"

Viel’s expression cooled. "You still want to fight me?"

"Yes. Knowing you intend to cause trouble in my Dion household, as the newly appointed head of House Dion, of course I can’t just stand by."

As for Miss Viel...

"I’ll be as gentle as I can, and return you intact to your grandfather."

A cold glint flashed through Sharp’s eyes.

"Of course, a tiny bit of pain is unavoidable. Miss Viel, please forgive me."

"You really think you’ve got me pinned down?"

An outstanding magic graduate of St. Maria Academy really was someone to fear, but Viel wasn’t flustered in the slightest facing this senior of hers. She even seemed to want to laugh.

In an instant, equally thick magic power rose up from her petite body.

"You’re looking down on me too much, Marquis."

Viel sneered with contempt, her momentum not weaker at all.

"Even though I’ve always been by the president’s side, you wouldn’t think... I’m really just a useless lackey, would you!"

......

......

A few minutes later.

Sharp walked out of the room with his clothes slightly torn.

Behind him was Viel, already tied up like a zongzi, yet still twisting unwillingly with tears in her eyes.

"That’s all you’ve got."

Sharp loosened his bow tie, an arrogant pride on his face—the same pride he’d once had back in St. Maria Academy when he’d been one of the top students.

We’re both geniuses, taught by the same school. My realm is even higher than yours. I really don’t know where this woman gets the courage and confidence.

If not for her having a good grandfather...

"But... the troublesome part is only starting now."

After leaving the reception hall, standing on a courtyard corridor with an open view, Sharp could see even more directly the disaster happening across the entire marquis’s manor.

Dense black flames blotted out the sky. Dazzling firelight was ferocious like a demon’s fangs. Chaos was everywhere. Piercing shouts and screams were like rusty strings shrieking.

"Damn it! A dignified marquis’s manor has actually turned into this! Where’s Butler Arno? Where is that waste Arno?!"

Surging killing intent nearly tore through that refined exterior, but no matter how furious Sharp was, he still got no response.

"B-big brother..."

Sharp turned around and saw a round, rolling meatball almost bouncing as it lunged toward him.

"Charles?"

Only when it came closer could he see it wasn’t a meatball, but an unbelievably fat man.

The man was naked all over—he didn’t even have pants on—and there were clear red lip marks on his body, as if he’d only just crawled up in terror from some warm, gentle bed.

This man was Sharp’s younger brother, Charles.

"Big brother, big brother, this is bad!"

Charles grabbed Sharp’s sleeve, crying and howling with snot and tears.

"There’s a crazy woman in the manor killing people like crazy! Butler Arno, and lots of others, were all killed by her!"

"Waste!"

Sharp slapped his younger brother so hard he spun two and a half rotations in midair, then shouted angrily,

"You people, what the hell do you even do? One—just /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ one person, and you can’t stop them? What does the Dion family keep you for? To be mascots?!"

"Big brother, it’s not that I didn’t want to stop her. It’s that a lot of those lowly commoners saw things go bad and all ran!"

Charles covered his face, aggrieved.

"I can’t go up alone to die, can I? I’ve got the noble bloodline of House Dion in me, too!"

"Trash! All you know is playing with women!"

Sharp was so furious he nearly choked, and he cursed a few more times.

But he also knew that even if he beat his useless little brother to death right now, it wouldn’t solve anything. The important thing was to not let the other side keep acting so wantonly, or else the Dion family’s old face they’d maintained for hundreds of years would be thrown on the ground and stomped.

"Wait, something’s not right."

Just as Sharp was about to rush toward the center of the riot, it was as if he suddenly remembered something. He abruptly turned his head and looked at Charles.

"You said those intruders are just killing people everywhere?"

"N-no... not exactly killing everywhere."

Charles trembled. "They let a lot of those lowly commoners who work in the manor run off. But a lot of people belonging to our Dion family were killed. Still, they don’t seem rushed at all. They look like they’re not afraid of later reinforcements at all."

"Not rushed at all..."

Sharp fell into thought, then his expression suddenly changed.

"This is bad. This side is bait, too!"

......

......

"It should be... here, right?"

In the gloomy cellar, the temperature was cold enough to pierce to the bone.

A faint white mist drifted through the air.

Darkness surged.

The warning magic laid around the cellar immediately went temporarily limp after a flash of electric light.

"Not bad—something that old loli made really is stronger than the simplified portable version of an alchemy domain."

Propping himself up on "Resentment of Being Single," Muen sighed as he placed an exquisite magic device in the center of the cellar.

It was precisely by relying on the ancient relic in his hand, and the junk he’d ripped off the old loli (as she called it) after nearly being tortured to death, that he’d been able to make it here without obstruction—into the most tightly guarded place in this marquis’s manor.

And now...

"This is the first time we’re truly meeting, isn’t it?"

Muen looked at the old man lying in the coffin. Like a junior paying respects to an elder, he bowed elegantly, the corner of his mouth drawing into a mocking arc.

"Respected Speaker."