If You Are Suited for the Villain's Secretary - Chapter 85

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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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If the Villain’s Secretary Suits Me
Chapter 85
‘What’s this? I’ve never heard that the Count possessed holy power….’
Had someone sprinkled holy essence on him?
It was when Willie, tilting his head in confusion, pulled back the blanket covering the arm that he froze again.
…Why would the Count’s arm have veins bulging so prominently blue like that?
But before suspicion and unease could fully take root,
“Ugh…!”
In an instant, Willie’s vision flipped 180 degrees.
Someone on the bed rose up simultaneously and extended an arm, slamming Willie’s head down onto the mattress. He didn’t even have time to scream.
Having dropped the syringe, Willie instinctively tried to draw upon his mana to counterattack.
But,
‘H-holy power…!’
The flow of his mana was severed instantly by the cascading torrent of holy power pouring from the massive hand crushing his throat.
There was no mercy. As the pressure bore down as if to wring out both his mana and breath, Willie’s vision turned white, and only one thought remained in his mind.
‘With this level of holy power, it must certainly be….’
But that was all.
Willie’s body went limp. The owner of the holy power, who lifted the unconscious man as easily as a sack of flour, spoke briefly.
“Check his face.”
The one who answered with a face so pale he looked ready to retch at any moment was Sherwood.
“It’s Willie, the Master of Siphron’s Mage Tower, ugh, confirmed.”
Seeing the swaying Sherwood, Ezekiel withdrew his holy power.
“My apologies.”
“…No, it’s fine.”
Sherwood, thoroughly shaken, quickly left the area and headed toward the table where Willie’s bag lay.
‘It’s fortunate we caught Willie, but being in the same space as the Paladin Commander….’
It was unavoidable.
A Mage Tower Master would possess considerable mana reserves, so it would have been difficult for an ordinary Holy Knight to ambush Willie.
But even knowing this logically, being in the presence of the Paladin Commander felt somehow uncomfortable.
‘He seemed to deliberately maintain his holy power output until he got a straightforward answer.’
He could have withdrawn his power the moment Willie lost consciousness. Was that apology supposed to make up for it?
His head was still spinning. Muttering inwardly, Sherwood examined the contents of the bag and frowned.
Isn’t this my mana suppressant?
As he thought this, Ezekiel, who had already bound Willie with blessed shackles, approached.
“What’s wrong? Is this poison?”
“It’s a mana suppressant. Not poison, but functionally it will serve a similar purpose.”
“…I understand why you’d say it serves a similar function to poison. I’ve heard explanations of how magical poisons work. But are you certain it’s a mana suppressant? How did you identify it at a glance without any examination?”
A reflexive answer escaped at the suspicious tone.
“It’s my own formula, so I’m certain. This is a prototype, but after leaving Siphron, I’ve manufactured it thousands of times to bring it to a commercially viable level, so I can tell from the physical properties alone.”
“Who needed this medicine?”
“…What?”
Sherwood faltered.
Ezekiel asked again, his pale green eyes drawing closer.
“If you’ve refined the recipe thousands of times even after leaving Siphron, the research costs must have been substantial. I’m asking who provided you with those funds. Typically, the person who needs the medicine is the one who finances the research.”
A chill ran down Sherwood’s spine.
Of course it was Aden, but he couldn’t tell Ezekiel that.
Sherwood swallowed hard and answered.
“Even mages have professional ethics. Are you asking me to carelessly reveal my client’s name—that is, the name of the patient who needs this medicine?”
“That wasn’t my intention. I was merely….”
“Yes. I’ll consider this an apology as well.”
Sherwood cut him off and spun around sharply.
Just as Ezekiel sighed and was about to say something, a voice came from beyond the door.
“Now, I shall present the will of Count Basil Plivier.”
It was a lawyer’s voice.
Ezekiel kept his gaze on Sherwood while listening intently to the voice.
***
Everyone raised their glasses. Kaileb Crimson took a sip of wine and rose to his feet.
He bowed his head briefly in silent reverence, then slowly lifted his gaze to survey the assembled guests before speaking.
“Distinguished guests.”
His voice carried profound sorrow.
“This gathering was meant to celebrate the union of Plevie and Crimson, and the birth of our young heir…. Yet fate, in its cruelty, offers us grief instead of a toast.”
Yet contrary to his voice, each word he chose flowed forth as though meticulously prepared beforehand.
“I prayed alongside my daughter, hand in hand, that a miracle would occur…. But we must also prepare ourselves for a reality as devastating as it is merciless.”
There was no need to mention La Mar and Aden specifically now.
During his exchanges with the guests, he had already spread sufficient whispers about the poisoning and the abduction.
Regardless, this moment belonged entirely to Crimson.
I had won. I had triumphed in the war against La Mar.
The countless gazes directed toward me sent a thrilling chill across my skin. Kaileb pressed his lips downward with deliberate gravity and continued.
“Until that final moment when his mind grew hazy, the Count concerned himself with only two things: his wife, who would be left alone, and the heir of his house, who had yet to see the light of day.”
It was a statement so persuasive that even Marquis Vito, who knew the truth, hesitated.
The other nobles had long since begun dabbing their eyes.
Surveying their expressions, Kaileb held up the envelope before him.
“The Count entrusted this will to me with trembling hands, earnestly beseeching me to prevent chaos in Plevie should he be absent.”
It was the envelope containing the will that Kaileb himself had forged, sealed with the Plebiae Family’s stamp.
He had kept it all along—except when Odette sealed it with wax.
“Therefore, I wish to proclaim here the Count’s noble wishes—namely, the will regarding ‘the succession rights and full authority of the House of Plivier’.”
“….”
“A title is, before all else, a responsibility.”
It was a truth every noble present knew yet willfully ignored.
“As the Count’s father-in-law and Chairman of Crimson, I hereby swear upon my name, Kaileb Crimson, that I shall share in that responsibility as best I am able, and that I shall respect and uphold whatever wishes the Count has left within this envelope.”
Soft applause echoed through the room. Kaileb Crimson settled into his seat with an ostentatiously solemn expression.
House of Plibie lacked an in-house counsel. However, having the Crimson Family’s lawyer read the contents would be problematic—it could invite unwanted scrutiny.
Thus, the Butler had hastily summoned a local lawyer from the estate, who accepted the envelope.
Kaileb watched the lawyer break the seal for a moment, then quietly shifted his gaze.
Odette sat on the right side of the two seats at the head of the table.
‘My foolish daughter, all the more endearing for it.’
Their eyes met.
At that moment, Odette’s lips moved.
‘Dad.’
Was he growing nervous again?
The way she sought him out like a small child was adorable, but with others watching, it wouldn’t do. Kaileb gave a subtle shake of his head.
Yet Odette’s lips continued to move.
‘Did the wine taste good?’
Kaileb’s brow furrowed. Wine?
He glanced down at his wine glass, then shot to his feet at Odette’s next words.
‘That was the wine from Basil’s Study.’
…What?
The lawyer’s voice brushed past Kaileb’s ears as he reeled in shock.
“Oh, quite an unexpected revelation. In any case, I shall read it.”
The lawyer, Scotty, cleared his throat and began reading the will aloud.
“…’Should I, Basil Plebiae, fall victim to poisoning or any such unforeseen accident, the culprit is none other than Marquis Vito.'”
The assembled crowd needed time to comprehend what they had heard.
All eyes converged on the lawyer, seeking clarification.
But the lawyer’s only addition, delivered in a tone almost cheerful, was a single phrase.
“That concludes it.”
“What?!”
It was Marquis Vito who shattered the tomb-like silence.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Among them, only Kaileb Crimson remained frozen.
His vision encompassed neither the crimson-faced Marquis Vito rushing forward nor the whispering masses.
Only Odette’s crimson lips filled his sight.
‘Did it taste good?’
In that same instant, guards’ voices thundered through the hall.
“The Holy Knight Order! The Holy Knight Order has arrived!”
For some, they were saviors who could answer this chaos,
“Did you meet a priest? Did you drink blessed water?”
But for Kaileb, who must never come into contact with holy power, it was a death sentence.
***
“The alliance between Kaileb Crimson and Marquis Vito appears solid, but in truth, it’s more akin to mutual blackmail—each holding the other’s leash. They could betray one another at any moment if circumstances shifted.”
-Then we simply need to create the conditions for that betrayal.
“Or, we could make them believe a betrayal has already occurred.”
-Make them believe a betrayal has happened? How could we…? Ah! What about this approach? We could write Marquis Vito’s name into a will…
Recalling the conversation I’d had with Iliana, I removed the blood-stained leather gloves from my hands.
I stood before the basement door of what appeared to be an unremarkable building.
Yet if it were truly an ordinary basement, Crimson’s security guards would not have been stationed here.
“Ugh…”
I walked past the guards writhing and groaning on the floor without sparing them a glance.
Crash!
The heavily locked door shrieked under my boot and swung open, revealing—along with the damp scent of earth—
“So it was here.”
The Delphi Flower Garden that Crimson had secretly cultivated.

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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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