I Became the Magic Tower Master's Experimental Mouse - Chapter 52

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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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‘What sort of vicious poison was it, I wondered, that killed all the test subjects yet somehow the unborn child survived?’
The curiosity was there, certainly, but I had no desire to dig into the affairs of the dead, so I quietly closed the journal.
* * *
After that day, the Tower Master’s behavior changed noticeably.
The first change was in his meals.
He’d always made do with quick, convenient fare, but now he sat at the table with proper regularity.
Everyone was astonished to see him eating properly from morning through evening.
He came and went from Philian’s room without hesitation.
Over the course of several days, he personally sorted through Philian’s belongings, and it became clear he could manage just fine without my presence at his side anymore.
‘He must have experienced some change of heart that day.’
He even opened the ledgers from the Duke’s estate that he’d left untouched for so long, and since he said there were things worth understanding, we ended up staying several days longer than expected.
“What are you thinking of doing today?”
Perhaps because we were traveling, the Tower Master left everything to my own choice except for sleep and meal times.
I thought for a moment after breakfast before answering his question.
“I’d like to visit the Library today! The steward mentioned there’s a historical record about the Serpens family there.”
“Ah, that. I wonder if you’ll find it interesting, though.”
The Tower Master rubbed his chin lightly, then extended his hand to me.
“Why?”
I reflexively placed my hand on his and asked.
The Tower Master grasped my hand gently and pulled me to my feet as he answered.
“I have business at the Library today as well.”
“What does going to the Library together have to do with holding hands?”
I laughed lightly and followed the Tower Master with a trot.
We made our way to the Library and settled ourselves side by side at a large table.
The Tower Master brought over several thick legal codes that looked too daunting to touch just by their sheer bulk, while I fluttered open the historical record he’d retrieved for me.
‘Well, I thought the family’s modest historical record would feel more like a travel guide, but……’
Somehow the Tower Master’s expression seemed a bit odd.
I gazed down at the historical record—not quite as thick as the Tower Master’s legal code, but still substantial—and let out a quiet sigh to myself.
‘He seems rather pleased about this.’
I’d already seen how his face brightened when I showed interest in his family. But how could I tell him I wanted to put it down right away because it was so thick?
Sometimes there’s no helping it—you simply have to study what you must study.
[Long ago, the Serpens family began as a Collateral Line of Basilisk, a Mythical Beast Descendant of the serpent. The Mastery of Ten Thousand Poisons flows only through the Imperial Bloodline, but in exchange, we became masters of poison.]
“Hmm.”
That Basilisk belonged to the Imperial bloodline was a fact everyone knew.
Hearing my admiring hum, the Tower Master glanced at me and spoke softly.
“No succession rights to the throne, and because it was our ancestor’s matter from ages past, our bloodline concentration now falls short of the tea leaves in this cup.”
“……Oh, goodness.”
‘So that makes them a collateral Imperial line?’ How did he know what I was thinking?
The Tower Master had expressed it in quite a peculiar way—that they were such a distant collateral line it wasn’t even proper to call them relatives anymore.
I looked down at my lightly steeped milk tea with some distaste.
‘What could the Mastery of Ten Thousand Poisons mean?’
Curious, I continued reading, and found a brief explanation of what the ability of the Basilisk Imperial House referred to.
Complete immunity to all poisons, and the ability to produce poison within one’s own body……
‘Wait? Where have I seen this ability before?’
The first part was me, and the second was that pregnant woman who’d been Philian’s client, wasn’t it?
‘……Could that pregnant woman have been of Imperial descent?’
Thinking thus, I shook my head and brushed away the thought.
Imperial descent or not, what did it matter? It was a story with no connection to me in any case.
‘I’m a rat, after all!’
What business did a humble dormouse demi-human have with Imperial nobility?
In the first place, rats were prey for snakes—there was no way we could ever be close.
The fact that I was entangled with the Tower Master at all was already a remarkable twist of fate.
‘It’s all thanks to my bold nature.’
I flipped through the book pages and stole a sideways glance at the Tower Master.
He was staring at the legal code with intense concentration.
‘……Why is he studying that legal code so earnestly?’
The open pages were crowded with difficult legal terminology. Only words like status and lawful procedure barely registered.
I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he seemed absorbed again, so……
I leaned forward quietly to observe, when suddenly a large hand shot out in front of my eyes.
“Oh!”
“This one. Says she wants to read books.”
The Tower Master’s hand gently pressed my nose without causing pain.
“But this book isn’t fun at all!”
I complained honestly and giggled.
“What are you looking for, anyway?”
“……Nothing much.”
The Tower Master quietly pushed the Legal Code aside and deliberately pulled my book toward himself.
“Now, let me explain.”
“Awww……”
His explanation was going to be boring, I could already tell……
I pouted my lips and rested my cheek heavily on the desk.
* * *
Count Gillon was of the Collateral Line of Behemoth, and stood as the current Duke of Behemoth’s first cousin twice removed.
Second in the Succession Order after the Duke.
Ordinarily, one could not hold such a position through such a distant relation, but Mythical Beast Descendants were scarce.
The Duke was himself an only child, and had fathered but one offspring, which meant the Collateral Line’s standing was far from low.
Yet even so, as a member of the Collateral Line, he would never have dared dream of supplanting the Direct Line……
That is, until he learned that the young Duke was dying. Then he could not help but dream.
“Welcome, Viscount Etre.”
“Thank you for summoning me, Count……. I’ve brought Schultz as well.”
“Good, good. Come, boy.”
Count Gillon smiled wickedly and gestured to a seat.
While the Count and his father exchanged pleasantries, Schultz sat down in considerable tension.
‘Is it really all right to be here like this……’
Schultz was deeply afraid.
He was Cassian’s childhood companion. In effect, he had already chosen his master.
But once word spread that Cassian’s command was wavering, Viscount Etre resolved to change allegiances.
The new rope he grasped was Count Gillon’s.
They had already exchanged words several times, and he had sworn anew to serve him faithfully.
Yet Cassian lived after all. Schultz had already seen him walking about, perfectly intact.
‘……There’s no helping it. There’s nothing I can do.’
The Duke was not a man who would quietly forgive a distant relative of his own blood, much less a boy who had attached himself as his son’s friend, for betraying the Direct Line.
Viscount Etre had ultimately come racing to Count Gillon’s letter in secret, driven by fear of future consequences.
Seeing his father tremble with dread, Schultz too felt a twinge of guilt toward Cassian, but he submitted to the situation.
“……Schultz. Schultz!”
Lost in dark, worried thoughts, Schultz only came to his senses when his father shook his shoulder.
“Oh, yes, yes.”
“Good heavens, since you’re the main player in this affair, you’d better keep your wits about you.”
Count Gillon spoke with eyes gleaming cruelly.
Schultz felt the gaze lick over him like a serpent’s tongue, and a chill ran down his spine for no reason he could name.
“I’m…… the main player?”
Schultz, who had been following along poorly with the adults’ conversation, asked while drawing his shoulders up slightly.
Count Gillon nodded.
“Since things have come to this, we’re all in trouble, aren’t we?”
“……What?”
“Your uncle lived, and now we’re all in a fix.”
At the blunt words, Schultz’s face flushed slightly.
“So then, this.”
The Count placed a very small Poison Vial on the table.
“This is……?”
“You’re the one who can draw closest to your uncle’s side more than anyone else, aren’t you. So……”
The Count smiled thinly.
“Tea, sweets, cake—it doesn’t matter what. Just three drops in whatever your uncle is about to eat, and that’s all there is to it.”
“This is…… poison…… isn’t it?”
Schultz asked, his face turned ashen.
He found himself glancing at his father, but the Viscount gazed toward distant mountains instead.
‘Because you swore loyalty and left your seal pledge as proof, there’s nothing to be done, my son……’
Had there been no evidence, he could have turned a blind eye and washed his hands of it, but the seal pledge remained.
“But I…… how could I possibly…… And besides, Mythical Beast Descendants don’t take poison……!”
It was an absolute axiom that Mythical Beast Descendants, excluding the Basilisk, could not be poisoned.
The Earl nodded at Schultz’s words.
“But has your nephew not already survived poison once? Since he received an improved version from whoever created that poison, through a trusted intermediary, it will work on him this time as well.”
A flicker of displeasure crossed the Earl’s gaze as he spoke.
As a fellow Mythical Beast Descendant, there was no way he could view favorably someone developing poisons capable of killing their kind.
Yet for now, this man was a valuable ally clearing obstacles from his path, so he grasped firmly the hand that had sought him out and accepted the solution offered.
“Just three drops. That’s all you need.”
“Schultz, you can do this. The young Duke spends a great deal of time speaking with you, and he’s come down to the Estate at just the right moment!”
Schultz, pressed by the weight of their expectations, hesitated before picking up the poison vial.
“B-but… if he collapses right after, I’ll be suspected.”
What came out instead of loyalty to Cassian was an excuse born of self-preservation.
“Don’t worry. It will take effect after a slight delay.”
Schultz’s eyes trembled faintly.
‘There’s no choice. If I want to survive—if my family wants to survive—there’s no choice.’

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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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