Chapter 571: Trap within a Trap

"Stop!"

Furious, Sharp’s eyes practically split at the corners. In that instant, the magic power that had originally been used for defense around his body suddenly surged toward Muen, who was not retreating but advancing.

But Muen seemed completely indifferent to the chilling killing intent from behind. He swung and slammed a fist down on the coffin.

Crack.

After the thunderclap-like roar came a crisp sound of shattering.

The coffin lid, carved like crystal, was clearly no ordinary material, yet it still split open directly under Muen’s full-force punch.

That aged face finally exposed to the air grew even paler, even more terrifying.

"I told you... stop!"

Sharp’s eyes were bloodshot. The raging fury in his heart made him nearly lose his mind.

It wasn’t because he had such deep feelings for his so-called father—rather, he knew exactly how important this body was. If anything went wrong here, there would be no need for that person to punish him; those greedy evil ghosts sitting at the table, waiting for the cake to be divided, would tear him to pieces!

This concerned the execution of the entire plan, so nothing could go wrong!

Thus an even faster, more complex chant rang out. Splendid magical radiance lit up the dim cellar. Sharp completely ignored the chill and the backlash of using powerful magic in such a cramped space. Scorching flames turned into a fire dragon, trying to swallow Muen’s figure whole.

Muen, however, did not continue to attack. He twisted his body, suddenly propped the coffin upright, and held it in front of him as a shield.

"You fucking..."

The magic froze instantly. Sharp practically spat blood before he forcibly scattered the flames that had already been fully released. Yet the feeling of pulling back a full-power strike was extremely unpleasant. If not for his precise control over magic power, he would have already suffered a serious backlash injury right now.

"Despicable!" Sharp ground his teeth.

"Despicable?"

Muen poked his head out from behind the coffin and smiled.

"Now that’s a misunderstanding. Didn’t I listen to you and stop?"

"Cut the crap! Give my father back!"

"That won’t do. Your father and I are getting along great—we’ve practically got the idea of becoming sworn brothers. Right, Marquis Dion?"

Muen hugged the coffin, affectionate as if he were really hugging a brother’s shoulders.

Sharp’s face was already twisted with rage at being taken advantage of.

But he still took a deep breath and forcibly pressed down the churning fire in his chest for the moment.

"Give my father back. I’ll let you go."

"Oh?"

Muen raised an eyebrow. "So generous? But why should I believe you? What if you turn around and deny everything?"

"I swear in the name of House Dion!"

"Come on. I’ve sworn that kind of oath I don’t know how many times, but nobody’s ever dared to snatch the old loli’s lollipop."

Muen shrugged.

"How about you, Lord Sharp, be a bit more generous—let me get out first, then I’ll return your father to you?"

"In your dreams!"

Sharp gritted his teeth.

"Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. This cellar has only one exit. Here, you have nowhere to run. Your only bargaining chip is the coffin in your hands, and you can only exchange with it. But if I let a speed-type martial brute like you run out, who knows how many unexpected complications will pop up. I’m not that stupid!"

"I’ll destroy your father’s body right now, and you don’t care?"

"You can gamble."

The gathered magic power stirred Sharp’s clothes again. In this brief exchange, snake-like lines of magic had already encircled Muen. He sneered.

"Let’s see whether I kill you first, or you destroy my father’s body first. Of course, no matter how the bet turns out, you... will die."

The frozen ground made the killing intent even colder. Facing Sharp, who blocked the cellar’s only exit and refused to yield a single step, Muen let out a soundless sigh.

With that kind of resolve, these guys—being parasites on the Empire for so long, they weren’t all useless trash.

Or rather, the truly useless ones had already been eliminated in the long river of the Empire’s history.

Those left behind—even if they were pig-brained and fat-gutted—would still bare their fangs when what was in their trough was about to be damaged.

A house dog that has lost its wildness is still vicious when guarding its food.

Not to mention, the one before him could hardly be called a house dog at all, but a genuine Candescent-tier mage—one of the top experts even in Belrand.

Yes. A mage.

Muen’s gaze flickered slightly.

"It seems... it can only be like this."

Muen’s body suddenly sank. The power he had long accumulated erupted in an instant. He lifted a hand and struck the back of the coffin with a palm.

The coffin exploded on the spot, but Old Dion’s body inside, driven by the external force, shot rapidly toward Sharp.

"Father!"

Sharp’s expression changed. He lightly swept his # Nоvеlight # palm. A gentle wind came, catching Old Dion’s body.

That terrifying external force had clearly only been applied to the coffin’s outer shell; the corpse inside was not harmed in the slightest.

And precisely because of that, Sharp’s attention had to split onto this body for an instant.

In the shadow behind Old Dion’s body, something suddenly glinted.

Then—

Zing—

Something sharp cut through the air.

From the dead angle of the shadows, a frost-white thin sword lunged out, its speed unbelievable—yet it stopped when it was still about thirty centimeters from Sharp.

Several faint glimmers flickered around Sharp. Precious magic tools and magic scrolls floated up at the same time. Along with several defensive spells he had already prepared around his body, it was as if he were inside an indestructible turtle shell.

A truly experienced mage would never let his true body be exposed without any defense.

The corners of Sharp’s mouth hooked into a smug, vicious grin as he looked toward Muen.

However, he did not see the frustration he imagined.

Because in that instant, from within the shadows, an incomparably brilliant light suddenly bloomed.

Not scorching, not threatening at all. That light was only bright—blindingly bright.

His vision was stolen, briefly.

Then, in the situation where only hearing and perception could function for the moment, Sharp heard a clear sound, like paper being sliced open by something extremely sharp.

One cut. One cut. One cut.

Finally...

Pft.

The light vanished, his vision returned.

Sharp stiffly lowered his head and saw that ice-blue thin sword, piercing with perfect precision through a gap in the barrier—one that had been cut by something unknown, neat and straight—and into his body.

Blood flowed.

Pain—something he had rarely experienced—tore at his nerves.

"Got you."

Muen said softly. "Lord Sharp."

"You..."

Sharp’s face showed disbelief yet again—he didn’t even know how many times it had happened tonight.

A mere martial brute could pierce his defensive barrier so easily—why?

By what special method?

That flash just now... was it to conceal that thing?

Meaning, either it was something that couldn’t be exposed to the light, or that thing would reveal...

The pain from torn flesh interrupted Sharp’s thoughts.

Muen twisted the thin sword. The icy Divine Favor from Celicia rapidly spread, corroding Sharp’s body.

"I think, based on my past experience, once a mage has been stabbed through the body, there shouldn’t be any chance of turning the tables, right?"

Muen stared into Sharp’s eyes. "You lost."

"Lose? Dream on."

In the unbearable pain, Sharp laughed, almost maniacal.

Click.

His upper and lower jaws snapped shut.

Muen’s gaze sharpened, as if he sensed something. But the defensive barrier around Sharp still existed; the gap he had hurriedly cut with Elizabeth just now simply did not support him stopping Sharp’s movement again.

In a flash, Muen only had time to stomp hard on the ground. His body flipped abruptly, swapping positions with Sharp, and he smoothly raised the thin sword crosswise in front of his chest.

The Divine Favor power on the thin sword seemed to understand his intent. In an instant, it condensed into a heavy wall of ice.

Boom.

The ice wall did not even last one second before it shattered under terrifying force.

Borrowing that recoil, Muen drifted backward lightly and stopped dozens of meters away, in the passage outside the cellar.

Crunch, crunch.

Ice was ground into powder under heavy footsteps. Amid flying frost blossoms, a figure—fully twice the size as before—gradually entered Muen’s view.

That face still belonged to the noble-blooded new marquis, yet python-like muscles had already burst the delicate formalwear. Bestial claws were like steel blades. The black fur across his body was no longer elegant at all, but brimmed with bloodthirsty savagery.

"Bruce..."

One eye was crimson and hungry. The other eye, however, was still clear. A long, drawn-out chant sounded, and dazzling magical radiance still flowed around the monster’s body.

The monster—or rather, Sharp—let out a true beastlike growl, smiling with savage brutality.

"You actually forced me to take this step. Are you ready to welcome pain tenfold, a hundredfold?"

He casually waved a hand. The booming shock nearly tore eardrums apart. The entire passage, starting from Sharp, shattered inch by inch. An invisible wave rolled like a giant dragon, pouncing toward the tiny figure of Muen.

"Ah, so that’s how it is?"

Watching Sharp in this state, Muen dodged and retreated quickly, while rather helplessly pressing down the brim of his top hat.

"Keeping a beast form while still rational... this is that so-called ‘new medicine’ from before?"

He had already been guessing what that new medicine was. Now that he knew the effect, he didn’t feel happy at all.

A Candescent-tier mage was already troublesome enough, and now there was this beastification drug to make up for Sharp’s physical weakness.

At this point, he truly could not think of any way to win.

"It seems..."

Muen’s peripheral vision swept over Old Dion’s body behind Sharp. He sighed.

"This operation... can’t succeed."

"Success?"

Sharp snorted. "At the moment of your death, you still have such unrealistic thoughts—I almost pity you. Don’t worry, Lower City’s Dark Emperor. I’ll soon help you break free from this way of thinking, and before you die, for your own overestimation... you’ll regret it to the extreme!"

The frost blossoms had not yet fallen, and the killing intent had not yet faded.

After confirming that Muen could no longer pose any threat to his father’s body, Sharp completely released his restraints and chased after Muen, who could only keep fleeing in a sorry state.

Outside the estate, the clamor gradually died down, replaced by blinding searchlights and the orderly hoofbeats of the knight order that had finally reacted.

The assailants who attacked the estate had withdrawn at some unknown point. Under the protection of the Upper City’s knight order, they no longer had any possibility of returning.

Although the speed of the mastermind’s escape was somewhat beyond Sharp’s expectations, in his view, since the other side’s objective had not yet been achieved, the outcome of this game had long been decided.

...

"Was it to your taste, Imperial Brother?"

Celicia set down her utensils and asked with elegant composure.

In the refined dining room, the classical music was equally intoxicating.

This was the Upper City’s most luxurious top-class restaurant. Every visitor here was of noble status, yet tonight the entire restaurant had been booked out. Well-trained servers, a royal chef, and famous classical musicians of the country were all here to serve only these two incomparably noble guests.

"Of course."

Albert smiled.

"Being invited by Celicia— even black bread would be sweet and delicious."

"Sweet... and... delicious..."

Celicia chewed on those two words, the corner of her mouth faintly lifting.

"I truly didn’t expect Imperial Brother to have even tasted black bread, something only commoners in the Lower City would eat. That’s admirable."

"...Celicia praises too much. It’s nothing."

Albert’s expression stiffened for an instant, then he shifted the topic.

"Speaking of which, Celicia wouldn’t have invited me here only for dinner, right? If you have something, please speak plainly. Between us, there’s no need for any twists and turns."

Albert wore a gentle smile, his words carrying an incomparable sense of friendliness.

"Of course."

Celicia nodded. "We’re siblings with the same blood, so naturally there’s no need for any twists and turns. But has Imperial Brother ever considered that I invited you tonight simply because I really wanted to have dinner with you once?"

"What..."

Albert let out a faint sound of surprise, covertly sizing Celicia up.

Yet no matter how he observed, on Celicia’s cool face with no emotional fluctuation, he could not see the slightest hint of falsehood.

Could it be... she was telling the truth?

"Imperial Brother, look. Outside seems pretty lively."

"Hm?"

Lively?

At a time like this?

Albert was puzzled. Following Celicia’s gaze, he turned his head as well.

Then he saw flames soaring into the sky in the distance.

"From the look of it, it seems some great noble’s estate is on fire. Tsk tsk, the fire looks pretty big."

Celicia rested her chin in her hand like an ignorant young girl engrossed in a show, yet Albert’s expression grew gradually heavy, because the direction those flames came from felt... familiar.

He even saw a familiar black bird sweep past the window, yet it never dared to come close.

The robin?

If he came over at a time like this, could it be he had something important to report?

"Ah, a bird."

Albert’s mind tightened, thinking the robin had been noticed, but when he looked back, he found Celicia lifting a hand. A white dove landed on her arm.

"Sorry. It’s a contact dove."

Celicia glanced meaningfully at Albert, then, right in front of him, she opened the letter the dove had delivered.

"Hm?"

Celicia’s brows lifted slightly. She said in surprise.

"So something like this happened. Truly unbelievable."

"What happened?" Albert asked curiously.

"The Dion marquis’s estate was actually attacked by rioters. It’s said half the estate became ruins—how terrifying."

Celicia’s tone sounded frightened, but her pretty face, with no emotional waves at all, made it hard to see much fear in it.

However, the Albert sitting across from her had a flash of terror flicker across his face in that instant.

"What did you say? The marquis’s estate was attacked?"

"Yes. That’s the news we just received. I imagine that fire... is the Dion marquis’s estate."

Celicia handed the letter paper to Albert. Albert snatched it impatiently, then his movement stalled—because Celicia tilted her head, studying him.

"How strange. Imperial Brother should have nothing to do with the Dion marquis, right? Why do you look so concerned?"

"I... I just find it unbelievable."

Albert forced himself to calm down and explained.

"After all, it’s a marquis’s estate, yet it was openly attacked by others. This is far too inconceivable."

"Yes. Inconceivable."

Celicia nodded as if enlightened. "But since it’s a marquis’s estate, it shouldn’t be so easy to breach, right?"

"Right. It won’t be that easy."

Albert agreed, yet it was as if he were also comforting himself. He muttered in a low voice.

"Right. Sharp isn’t some straw dummy. The defenses are more than sufficient. If it’s a frontal assault, there’s no way they could achieve their objective so easily. Impossible..."

"Is that so?"

Celicia continued resting her chin in her hand, looking out the window with a half-smile that wasn’t quite a smile.

"A frontal assault..."

...

...

"Ugh... that hurt like hell. Damn Sharp—he doesn’t even know to be gentler with a cute lady."

In the reception room, Veil, freed from her restraints, rotated her wrists and pouted in dissatisfaction.

At her feet was the long rope Sharp had used to bind her. Even now, faint magic light still wandered over it, showing it was anything but ordinary.

But...

"I already told you my grandfather is a Truth-Rank archmage. For something like this, how could I not have countermeasures?"

Veil planted her hands on her hips and laughed smugly.

But after two dry laughs she stopped. With no audience to watch her show off, it really was a pity.

"Hey, hey, hey—anyone there?"

Veil tiptoed to open the door and looked outside.

What met her eyes was an estate that was almost half reduced to ruins.

"Wow. That’s miserable. Did a demolition crew come through? And with that much commotion, that brat Muen Campbell... he didn’t get beaten to death, right?"

Veil, for once, showed a bit of worry toward that hateful playboy.

But that was even better.

With the estate already in ruins, naturally no one else would be staying here.

Veil took out an exquisite compass and moved through the rubble.

Soon.

Following the compass’s direction, Veil crouched in a hidden corner and found a positioning magic tool no bigger than a button.

"Hm, it should be here."

She raised her head, her gaze sweeping the surroundings.

This place was messier than any other area, yet she could still sense the intricate magic arrays arranged here.

You could only say Sharp really was cautious. Even after being so furious he went into beast form, he still hadn’t forgotten to restart the magic mechanisms here.

But...

"The same method—if it can get through the first time, it can get through the second. He didn’t even think of something like that?"

Veil rummaged around in the rubble and pulled out a handle-less... umbrella.

And a special magic tool whose ingeniousness would probably make even her Truth-Rank grandfather sigh in admiration.

She opened the umbrella, activated the magic tool, and continued forward, unimpeded the whole way.

Finally, she stopped, lowered her head, and looked down at that aged body.

For a long time.

"Oh my, to be able to do whatever you want with a marquis’s body..."

Veil cupped her cheeks, her face like a delicate flower as she swayed.

"Just thinking about it makes me a little excited."