Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 105

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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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Chapter 105
“Ah, and one more thing.”
The Crown Prince continued.
“To calm the anxious populace, I must ensure this Naila Goddess Festival proceeds successfully.”
To alleviate the people’s unease, finding and eliminating the cause of the Barrier’s fractures was paramount. Yet despite everyone pooling their efforts, they remained unable to identify why such phenomena were occurring.
“Isn’t the Naila Goddess Festival typically conducted directly by His Imperial Majesty?”
Master asked in a cold voice.
“Since I’ve been cooped up in my office lately, wrestling with this crisis, Father likely arranged this official ceremony to give himself a chance to make an appearance. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The Crown Prince preferred stepping before crowds to poring over documents, so he was genuinely looking forward to this festival.
“….”
“I’m glad you came today. And I should meet with Rozard separately, as you suggested.”
Interpreting Master’s silence as agreement, the Crown Prince withdrew another small pouch of gold coins and smiled warmly.
* * *
“You seem to have been doing well.”
Rozard, drawing near to me, lifted his thin lips slightly.
With silver hair as if frosted by winter’s chill, Rozard’s aura differed entirely from Beleck Simour’s image of a sensitive scholar. His short-cropped hair and trained physique gave him the bearing of a German officer.
‘A combat mage, if I recall.’
Observing Rozard’s seamless, impenetrable composure, I swallowed a chill. It was a sensation etched into my very body. Deborah had found the inscrutable Rozard far more formidable than the quarrelsome Beleck Simour.
The scent of blood hovering at my nostrils grew increasingly thick, and I felt both fear and bewilderment.
‘Why is Purple reacting now that Rozard has appeared?’
The novel contained no setting where he dabbled in dark magic.
‘And why is this bastard completely unharmed?’
In the novel, Rozard had returned to the Capital with a severe injury to his left ankle. And it was Miya Binoshu who aided the war hero’s recovery.
But since he wasn’t injured, there was no reason for him to meet Miya.
“?!”
That’s when it happened. The man sprawled like a corpse beside Rozard suddenly contorted grotesquely and lunged his gaping mouth toward Rozard’s left ankle. The man’s tongue and teeth were an ominous black, and I screamed without thinking.
“Brother! Behind you!”
My vision suddenly flooded with brilliant white. Purple had expelled a luminous sphere from its mouth.
“Gaaahhhhh!”
The man struck by Purple’s light sphere writhed in agony as if burned. Rozard, narrowly avoiding having his ankle bitten, unleashed a vicious string of curses and began brutally stamping on the man with his boot heel.
‘That zombie-like man Rozard brought was the dark mage.’
That’s why Purple sensed something amiss and reacted.
“The barbarian cleverly hid poison behind his molars.”
Rozard bent down, forced the man’s mouth open, and crammed a handkerchief inside. Blood flowed into his airway, making breathing impossible through his mouth, yet the man merely convulsed—he did not die.
My fingertips grew progressively colder at the horrific sight.
“Is he… human?”
At my question, Rozard gazed down at the man with contempt.
“His vitality has been irrationally amplified through alchemy, making him closer to a monster than a human.”
“Alchemy….”
“They use human lives and blood as sacrifices to distort causality. Vermin far beneath insects.”
A sudden realization struck me.
‘So the kidnapping of Eastern Territory residents was connected to dark magic after all.’
The reason Rozard, the eldest son of Simour, had left the Capital and launched extensive barbarian subjugation campaigns in the Eastern Region was because of the missing residents incident. Previously, the Eastern nomadic tribes had only invaded farmland to steal crops. But when they suddenly began kidnapping people, I wondered why—only to discover they intended to use the residents as sacrifices for dark magic rituals.
Rozard withdrew his sharp gaze from the barbarian and regarded Purple with an intrigued expression. Purple met his stare unflinchingly, blinking those bright, intelligent eyes.
“That white turtle… could it be holy water?”
“Yes.”
“You possess something rare. Thanks to it, I avoided considerable trouble. I nearly became addicted and lost the use of my left leg for a while.”
In that moment, Rozard had incurred a debt to Purple.
‘The problem is that he’s not the type to repay favors properly.’
In the novel, after recovering his leg quickly thanks to Miya, Rozard had coveted her healing power—its high purity and minimal aftereffects. Moreover, his ambitions ran deep; he desired the divine radiance that Miya possessed.
‘I healed him, and his conclusion was kidnapping and confinement. What a remarkable bastard…’
Just as my mind grew tangled by his sudden appearance, Rozard gently stroked my head with his blood-stained hand.
“My sister—it’s been so long. I’m delighted to see you.”
“…?”
I furrowed my brow and brushed his hand away sharply, and he smiled, drawing up his thin lips.
“Your temperament remains unchanged. That’s precisely what makes me happier.”
“Since when did you start treating me as your sister?”
In the fragments of memory, Rozard had thoroughly ignored Deborah Simour. It would be more accurate to say he treated her as if she didn’t exist.
“If my past attitude caused you any hurt, I should treat you with utmost care as my sister from now on.”
“Who said I was hurt? I preferred the distance we had before.”
“I think I might come to prefer the distance we have now.”
The gap between us was now close enough to bridge with a single step.
“Your bangs are sticking up.”
Rozard gestured toward my forehead with his chin, then seized the collar of the man who writhed like a worm.
“I’d like to talk more with my sister, but I need to investigate the mastermind behind this barbarian.”
“…”
“Let’s meet again.”
Rozard dragged the man who had become zombie-like toward the direction of the Main Mansion where Father was, leaving behind a trail of blood dark as poison. Had the surroundings not been well-lit, I might have already lost consciousness.
My legs finally gave out, and I collapsed, breathing heavily. Purple licked my fingers as if to encourage me.
‘In any case, the chance of Miya and Rozard meeting has disappeared.’
After stealing the Duchess’s letter, I had been worrying about how to help Miya escape if Rozard caused trouble. I chose to convince myself that this was not an unfavorable situation.
* * *
As the birthday of the Goddess Naila approached, Duke Simour attended a state council meeting held at the Imperial Palace. Among the numerous family heads who appeared in the conference room, Duke Simour’s expression was the most radiant.
He deliberately pressed down the corners of his rising mouth and cleared his throat with a soft “ahem.”
Before the state council meeting began, the family heads enjoyed light refreshments and exchanged updates on their recent circumstances. And Duke Simour had far too much to boast about lately.
‘How enviable.’
‘He’s raised his children well.’
‘His eldest is a war hero, and his second son and daughter have collaborated to develop a filial piety artifact.’
In truth, the filial piety artifact was the most enviable. Most noble children constantly demanded this and that, yet returned nothing to their family heads.
‘And the youngest is aiming to become the youngest Fourth-Circle Mage.’
Meanwhile, Duke Montes was carefully managing his expression to conceal his embarrassment and envy. The thought of his only son suffering public humiliation over his failure to properly manage a single social club made his blood boil.
“Duke Simour. I’ve heard excellent things about Rozard’s accomplishments.”
“To think he subjugated those barbaric savages who dabbled in such abominable alchemy. Thanks to a talented individual like Rozard, the future of this nation shines brightly.”
The family heads skilled in social graces began lavishing praise upon Duke Simour.
“Hmm. Rozard was always an exceptional fellow.”
Duke Simour offered his boast disguised as humility.
‘A clever move, indeed.’
Though my daughter was once considered the family’s burden, she had become quite accomplished of late—and he was already laying groundwork to showcase her achievements. Once the stage was set, it was only natural to step into the spotlight. A family head who had been eyeing an opportunity to gain Duke Simour’s favor seized the moment to speak.
“I heard a rumor that Deborah Simour and Beleck collaborated to create a magical artifact called the ‘Massage Device.’ Is that true?”
“It’s quite effective. We have it installed at the Magic Tower.”
“Remarkable.”
“The Magic Tower has so many stairs, you see. The Massage Device relieves fatigue remarkably quickly. My daughter’s devotion to me is truly extraordinary.”
His tearful anecdote at the Academic Conference had become legendary.
“Ah, and these days, thanks to Rozard’s field of expertise, Deborah Simour’s formulas are receiving renewed attention.”
“Indeed. In fact, my son’s remarkable performance in the war was largely possible because he made excellent use of the formulas my daughter developed.”
“Ah, what deep bonds between your children! I envy you, Duke Simour.”
As if a seal had been broken, Duke Simour could no longer contain himself and began boasting about his daughter in earnest.
‘How long does he intend to keep this up?!’
Duke Montes, clutching his aching stomach as the blatant boasting assaulted his ears unbidden, suddenly felt a pang of regret. Had they not once exchanged marriage proposals between their families?

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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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