A World Where You All Are The Villains - Chapter 188

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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188.

“…!”
There’s always someone faster than the fastest runner.
Regardless of who was watching, the Grand Duke’s mad declaration of “bastard” rang out loudly, and Vincent’s face flushed crimson.
“Did you just say everything you needed to say…!”
“Vincent!”
The moment he bristled and began to shout, someone’s voice cracked like thunder.
“What are you doing over there! Get over here this instant!”
“….”
“Vincent Leandro!”
Marquis Leandro called out to him repeatedly in an irate voice.
It made sense—his son was glaring daggers at the Grand Duke, enough to drive anyone to madness.
“What are you waiting for? Your father is calling you desperately.”
Serge chuckled dryly and gestured toward Marquis Leandro with his eyes.
Whether from pride or stubbornness, Vincent refused to move.
Unable to bear it any longer, I was about to tell him to go when Serge suddenly reached out.
“Wait, what are you——!”
Before I could stop him, Serge roughly wrenched Vincent’s hand away from me and cast it aside as if discarding refuse.
Then he tapped Vincent’s shoulder with his index finger—or rather, shoved it.
“Show filial piety while your father still lives, Sub-Duke. Don’t covet a tree you cannot climb, only to die in obscurity without anyone knowing.”
“….”
“If the Marquis loses not only his wife but his last remaining child before him, how great his sorrow would be. Wouldn’t you agree?”
At Serge’s insult—which sounded like a death threat—I drew a silent, sharp breath.
I was not alone.
While everyone watched anxiously, Vincent spoke through gritted teeth, barely suppressing his rage.
“We’ll have to see which one of us dies in obscurity.”
“There’s one thing we don’t need to wait to see—that the Princess doesn’t want to sit next to you?”
Serge grinned wickedly and gestured toward me with his chin.
Vincent turned to look at me abruptly.
“…Edith Blake.”
He called my name with such pathos.
His eyes pleaded for me to take his side as I once had.
But I quietly averted my gaze.
I hadn’t expected Serge to be so tyrannical, but his words weren’t entirely wrong either.
I had been subjected to one-sided condemnation just moments before and had withdrawn in displeasure….
At my continued silence, Serge smirked as if to say “I told you so,” and Vincent’s face crumpled miserably.
With eyes that mingled humiliation and betrayal, he stared at me for a moment before stomping away rapidly into the distance.
Under normal circumstances, I would have found it satisfying to watch, but for some reason, I didn’t.
The sulking child’s retreating figure looked so pitiful and forlorn that my heart felt heavy.
“What are you looking at? I went through the trouble of driving her away because she seemed troubled… what, do you regret it? Should I bring her back?”
The man laughed with an eerie prescience, spouting words he didn’t mean.
Too drained to respond, I shook my head and collapsed into my chair.
Serge sat down beside me in turn. It was the very seat Vincent had occupied moments before.
As he glanced across the hall, the people who had been watching with keen interest hastily vacated their places.
Thanks to him, the crowded surroundings emptied in an instant, but it was clear this incident would be the subject of gossip for days to come.
As I rubbed my throbbing temples, the man’s brow furrowed immediately.
“Does your head hurt?”
“Yes, thanks to someone whose every entrance is so dramatic… is it really impossible to get through even a single day in peace?”
“That’s precisely what makes me so charming.”
Following that absurd response, he pressed on eagerly.
“What did you talk about.”
“Pardon? Well, just…”
I was about to answer dismissively when I recalled my conversation with Vincent and stopped abruptly.
The heated words I’d hurled at him, using the Grand Duke’s visit to Ruellin as a pretext to deliberately provoke him.
…None of it had been sincere—it was nothing but childish bickering.
Yet my face burned with embarrassment.
As if I had actually been jealous.
“This is suspicious. What conversation would make you unable to speak properly?”
At the sight of me hesitating and stammering, Serge’s eyes narrowed to slits in an instant.
“B-but! Shouldn’t you greet them first?”
I changed the subject with an awkward demeanor that anyone could see through.
“Greet them?”
“They keep staring at us.”
I subtly gestured behind Serge.
I had been feeling an intense gaze burning from the center of the hall for some time now.
It was the Crown Prince.
Apparently unintentionally slighted by the Grand Duke, he wore an expression as if he might charge forward at any moment.
“Ah.”
Serge turned to look in the direction I indicated, and soon his characteristic mischievous expression appeared.
“Choose.”
“Choose what…”
“Whether I go over there and tell him to get out since this is the Princess’s seat, then take the place of honor. Or we stay here and have an intimate conversation, just the two of us.”
Why did I have to choose between those options?
I frowned.
“I don’t like either one.”
“Is that so? Then.”
He suddenly rose to his feet.
Ready to march straight to the Crown Prince and tell him to back off, I frantically grabbed his sleeve instead.
“The latter, the latter!”
“If the Princess wishes it so much, then fine.”
He let out a satisfied chuckle, brushed his clothes once with a pat, and sat back down.
‘Damn bastard.’
He clearly had no intention of actually leaving—he’d just been toying with me.
As I glared at him with displeasure, a belated question occurred to me.
“By the way, what do you mean by ‘your seat’?”
“I ordered them to prepare just one chair for the sickly one, yet they unnecessarily multiplied them.”
Serge grumbled as he surveyed the arranged chairs with disapproval.
“Thinking they’d prepared my seat, all sorts of bastards crawled over and sat down. Tsk.”
“Are you perhaps referring to that sick person?”
“Who else would it be? Is there another gentleman lying ill for four days around here?”
At those words, I felt both flustered and oddly unsettled.
My earlier worries proved entirely unnecessary—the man showed no signs whatsoever of being mentally controlled by Ruellin.
Of course, it seemed unlikely she could use that ability again anyway.
If he’d been brainwashed even briefly, he wouldn’t be so concerned about my brief illness.
Especially when I’d already confirmed last night that he was perfectly fine.
Everything felt strange, but the strangest part was how rapidly I felt relieved by it.
As I stared at him intently, he turned his head away with an oddly embarrassed expression.
“Enough. You still haven’t answered my question. What did you talk about with the blue-haired bastard?”
“…Nothing particularly important.”
“Nothing important, yet you’re making that face like you’re about to explode?”
“When did I ever…”
His crude manner of speaking was always grating, but I let it pass this time.
Half-resigned, I shared part of the conversation.
“They say His Highness spent the entire night in private talks with Ruellin.”
“Nosy bastard.”
Before I could even finish, he spat out a harsh curse.
“I was dragged here at dawn, so we only briefly crossed paths.”
“…”
“Really. He was spouting nonsense like some starving beggar, so I got spooked and ran away.”
Without me saying anything, he launched into an indignant defense.
It was somehow… endearing.
I suppressed the laugh threatening to escape and asked further.
“What kind of nonsense?”
“Something about the Cult stealing Awakeners’ abilities?”
“…”
“He said the Cult Leader has a plan to destroy the world.”
Serge shook his head dismissively, treating Ruellin like a madwoman.
Meanwhile, I stiffened in my seat.
‘She’s lost all reason now.’
The fact that Ruellin was grabbing Serge—someone she hadn’t even brainwashed—and saying such things meant she was truly cornered.
Or perhaps Sephiroth’s plans were coming to fruition sooner than expected.
“Surely you, who have met him in person, understand better than I do?”
“Your Highness. In truth, Sephiroth is….”
I hastened to speak, desperate to share what I hadn’t managed to tell him yesterday.
“Make way! Danger ahead! Fall back!”
Suddenly, the bunker entrance erupted into chaos.
At the thunderous shout, people scrambled to clear a path, and Dylan emerged through the gap, flanked by a contingent of knights.
But what captured everyone’s attention was not him, but the massive cage that followed.
“Good heavens, look at that.”
“So the rumors were true—he went berserk from the shock of being cast out!”
“Tsk, tsk. And to think a captain of the knights would come to this….”
People pointed through the iron bars, their whispers never ceasing.
Screeeech, thud.
As if inviting all to gawk, the knights set the cage down in the center of the bunker.
Thick iron chains bound his hands and feet, and a gag was fastened across his mouth.
The figure crouched in the corner of the cage like a beast was none other than Ethan.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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