I’m The Male Lead’s Biological Daughter, But I Want To Live With The Second Male Lead! - Chapter 96

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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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Episode 96
Meanwhile, at that very moment, Aselt was with Dain.
“Ugh, there we go.”
Thump.
Dain set a heavy Document Folder down onto the desk.
“Phew—that’s everything, sir.”
“More than I expected, actually.”
“This is still on the lighter side. White Lions are exceedingly rare.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. And since this is a Black Market, there are bound to be transactions not recorded in the ledgers.”
The Document Folder Dain had just brought contained a complete list of White Lion transactions that the ducal house had compiled.
These were ledgers seized during the sweep of the Black Market where Beastmen were being trafficked in secret.
The other nobles had hesitated, waiting to gauge Duke Zicorren’s reaction—but Zigmund had done no such thing.
He had been consistently advocating that alchemy could be practiced without using Beastmen as material.
Because of this, the Eschlide Grand Duchy had become a relatively safer place for Beastmen.
Though that very safety had made it an attractive hunting ground for poachers, given how many rare Beastmen dwelt there.
Recently, the Empress had not only commercialized the Subjugation Mark but had begun turning a blind eye to the black market and poaching.
This had driven poachers in droves to Eschlide, where rare Beastmen were plentiful.
And it was during a renewed sweep that Mabel had been kidnapped.
“But why are you suddenly looking for the White Lion transaction ledgers and the investigation reports on the poachers we apprehended not long ago?”
Enough time had passed that it seemed unlikely he’d suddenly grown angry at those poaching dogs.
When Dain asked out of curiosity, Aselt gave an evasive answer.
“Ah, well, never mind. In any case, understood. You’re dismissed.”
“Sir? Ah, yes, sir.”
Faced with a clear dismissal, Dain had no choice but to leave the room without pressing further.
‘Now that I think about it, he mentioned Winter and that girl had gotten closer?’
While waiting for Zigmund to receive treatment, the servants had mentioned something heartening they’d overheard.
The two disciples had been shut away ever since Mabel first arrived, which had worried him.
‘He’s curious about Winter? Then it would be faster to ask the Grand Duke directly.’
Zigmund knew where Winter’s parent creatures were located.
The Wingrieon House—the Empress’s family, who protected the White Lions with great care.
If they were still alive, Winter’s parents would be there.
But it was said that once beasts achieved independence, they recognized each other as separate individuals.
‘At this point, even if Winter were to go searching, she’s been handled by human hands far too much. It wouldn’t work out.’
That was why the Wingrieon House hadn’t actively tried to bring Winter back.
The Eschlide ducal house was trustworthy enough to leave her with.
But wait.
“Hmm?”
Aselt should already know these facts, shouldn’t he?
Dain stopped in his tracks and looked back toward Aselt’s room.
Then what exactly was Aselt searching for?
After hesitating for a moment, Dain resumed walking.
Whatever it was, it didn’t seem like anything particularly dangerous.
* * *
“Found it!”
Upon hearing Mabel’s call, Zigmund immediately read the page that Winter was tapping insistently.
“This is… the Mark of Servitude, isn’t it?”
The Mark of Servitude was something Fantasy Beings exchanged when they met their Companions.
Through the Mark of Servitude, Fantasy Beings shared their life force, strength, and abilities with their Companions, becoming even more powerful.
The Subjugation Mark currently tormenting Beastmen had been derived from this very Mark of Servitude.
“But… why is this here?”
“Huh? This is about Fantasy Beings.”
As Zigmund and Mabel questioned in turn, Winter opened her mouth wide.
Between her parted jaws gleamed tiny, pearl-like teeth.
[Idiots.]
[Master too. Mabel too.]
[All of you are idiots!]
“Hey!”
As the words burst from her, Winter raked her claws across Zigmund and Mabel in one swift motion.
“Ow!”
“What are you doing?!”
Zigmund seized Winter by the scruff of the neck and hoisted the creature into the air.
“Mabel, are you all right?”
“Oh, yes.”
Mabel nodded, examining her scratched fingers.
Looking more closely, Zigmund’s instep bore a rather deep gash, while Mabel’s fingers had only been grazed at the tips.
There was no question that Winter had deliberately held back, calibrating the force differently in those brief seconds.
Her exasperation doubled.
“This creature.”
Zigmund shook the small White Lion by the scruff, as if trying to shake sense into it.
“Meoooow—!”
With each shake, white fur drifted down like autumn wheat being harvested.
Yet Winter remained undeterred.
The small beastman drew his fluffy front paws together across his chest, their fur still bearing traces of their blood, and squeezed his eyes shut.
That was when it happened.
“Oh, oh my?!”
“Young Master Kellic!”
Servants’ voices echoed from somewhere down the corridor.
“Young Master! What on earth is happening?!”
“You’re covered in cold sweat—!”
At the commotion, both Zigmund and Mabel turned toward the door.
The grip on Winter’s scruff loosened at that moment.
Seizing the opening, Winter wriggled free.
“Wait, wait!”
[Read!]
Winter barked and tapped the book frantically.
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
But Mabel did as Winter insisted, reading the passage again.
“The Mark of Servitude cannot be broken, but it can shatter if one receives the aura of tens of Fantasy Beings. …But?”
Even on the second reading, the text offered nothing particularly useful.
What had been branded onto Zigmund was a Subjugation Mark, not a Mark of Servitude.
Moreover, Sophia and Zigmund were both human.
“This is different from the mark the household head bears.”
Thus, Mabel concluded that Winter must be mistaken about something.
“I don’t know what a Fantasy Being’s unique aura is supposed to be, but—”
Mabel trailed off mid-sentence, her words dying in her throat.
Suddenly, an image surfaced in her mind—a drawing Kellic had sketched of Winter.
“…Wait.”
In that instant, the pieces of some puzzle in Mabel’s head began clicking rapidly into place.
Meanwhile, Zigmund had felt something wrong with his body for a while now.
A strange heat was crawling across his shoulders and spreading throughout his entire frame.
‘What is this…?’
Zigmund gripped his own shoulder without thinking.
‘This is where Sophia’s Subjugation Mark was placed…’
The skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt burned intensely.
By then, Mabel noticed that something was wrong with Zigmund’s condition.
“Household head?”
The moment Mabel grabbed Zigmund’s shoulder, she yanked her hand away in alarm.
His body was burning hot, as if he were engulfed in flames!
“Household head!”
Zigmund was already breathing heavily, his breath scalding from the fever raging through him.
Mabel moved to call for help in a panic, but Winter stopped her.
“Don’t! The household head is in pain!”
“Hnnngh!”
Winter stubbornly refused to let go, clamping down hard on the hem of Mabel’s skirt and pulling insistently.
Meanwhile, the fabric of Zigmund’s shirt began to stain crimson where he gripped his shoulder.
Had the wound where the Subjugation Mark was branded opened anew?
Soon Zigmund’s body gave out entirely, and he collapsed onto the bed, gasping for breath.
“Winter, you…”
At the sound of Zigmund calling out, Winter turned to look at him.
Zigmund held on with every ounce of strength he had, fighting desperately not to lose consciousness.
Through vision growing dimmer and dimmer, Zigmund’s eyes suddenly snapped open as he looked at Winter.
Was the fever so high that he was seeing things?
Words were floating above Winter’s head.
[Mark of Servitude.]
[Inferior Compatibility.]
[Subjugation Mark.]
Mabel must have seen the words too—her hands, which had been pulling Winter away, went limp.
[Partially Damaged.]
[Likely.]
[Request. Gratitude. Greeting.]
Winter opened its mouth in a silent meow.
With that, Zigmund finally lost consciousness.
* * *
—Yes, that’s it exactly. Precisely so…….
A thin voice reached him from behind.
Blink.
Regaining his senses, Zigmund’s skin prickled with dread as he spun around sharply.
But the darkness on all sides held no one.
‘Where on earth am I?’
It was then that Zigmund stood there, bewildered in thought.
Throb!
“Ugh!”
A sickening pain shot through the nape of his neck.
His legs gave way entirely, and he could not stand.
As Zigmund clutched at the source of the pain and sank to his knees, the smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils.
Just as it had when the Subjugation Mark was seared onto Sophia.
“The Subjugation Mark……?”
The moment he muttered the words, his vision suddenly blazed with light on one side.
Like a moth drawn to flame, Zigmund turned his head toward it at once.
“……!”
There he was.
Bound tightly to a chair with tubes running through his entire body—in the form he had only seen in nightmares.
At the same moment, fragmented memories flooded Zigmund’s mind.
In those memories, Zigmund writhed in agony just as he did in his nightmares.
The memories that emerged were incomplete and sparse, yet Zigmund understood.
‘Good God.’
That nightmare, which vanished upon waking and left only terrible pain behind, its nature unknown.
It had been a memory—erased by the Subjugation Mark all along!

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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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