Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 217

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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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Special Side Story – Episode 2
I let out a short exclamation of admiration.
Not because he was my younger brother, but because he truly had grown splendidly.
The thirteen-year-old boys in my memory didn’t possess that radiant, endearing quality that Enrique exuded.
“That’s Enrique Simour, apparently.”
“Wow….”
“He’s beautiful….”
The Academy’s female students whispered among themselves, gazing at Enrique with the same admiration I felt.
‘My brother’s handsome, isn’t he? Keep going.’
Reveling in Enrique’s popularity, I stood behind with my arms crossed, smirking—until my expression hardened.
“Tch! What do these girls see in that pretty-faced weakling anyway….”
“If he weren’t a Simour, nobody would give such a frail, sickly boy a second glance.”
The envious mutterings of jealous mediocrites reached my ears in succession.
“But you know, the other presenters had their parents attend, yet Enrique Simour didn’t.”
“Not all Simours are the same. Louis Orleans was saying that Enrique has practically no presence in that household.”
“True, compared to Louis Orleans, the family head’s eldest son, Enrique is only popular with the girls—his future prospects aren’t particularly impressive.”
‘How dare they.’
My fists itched to deliver a barrage of knuckle strikes to these loose-tongued fools.
I wanted nothing more than to tear off my robe, reveal my identity, and silence them immediately, but since Enrique’s presentation was about to begin, I exercised restraint for once.
“This Academy Principal fellow certainly loves to hear himself talk.”
Father seemed to share my sentiment, muttering coldly before adding with sinister undertone:
“Someone ought to teach him how to keep his remarks brief.”
Only after the Academy Principal’s interminable address—which tested Simour’s notoriously thin patience—did the presentation finally commence.
Unfortunately, the Sword Department and Magic Department, which boasted the Academy’s largest attendance and greatest popularity, were scheduled last.
Standing there with barely concealed boredom, I heard the name of the Sword Department’s presenter called.
“Next, we have a sword demonstration by Louis Orleans, this year’s second-ranked swordsman of the Sword Department.”
-Louis Orleans was saying that Enrique has practically no presence in that household.
…Wait, Louis Orleans? That’s the disagreeable name from those fools’ conversation.
Curious to see what kind of wretch he was, I kept my eyes fixed on the Grand Hall when suddenly servants rushed up and began installing numerous wooden training dummies.
This fellow named Louis warmed up, then struck all manner of pompous poses while flailing his sword through the air.
“Hah! How ostentatious.”
Duke Simour frowned with disdain and clicked his tongue.
“Indeed. His movements are sluggish, and his shoulders are far too tense.”
As I, whose eyes had grown discerning from living alongside the Sword Master, coldly assessed his abilities, the loudmouthed fool bellowed and consecutively cleaved two dummies.
“Wow!”
“Magnificent!”
The fellow, who had left clean severed surfaces, spun his body about like a ruffian, methodically beheading each remaining dummy before dusting off his hands and descending from the stage.
As applause erupted from various corners at the impressive display of strength by the thirteen-year-old swordsman, Enrique took the stage last.
Gazing at the wooden dummy heads scattered haphazardly across the Grand Hall, I ground my teeth.
‘That damned Louis has made a mess of Enrique’s stage.’
I would have preferred if he’d cleared the stage and proceeded with the presentation, but Enrique opened his mouth calmly with an unperturbed expression.
“I shall begin.”
The next moment, Enrique from the Magic Department drew a sword from his waist, and the Grand Hall erupted into chaos. My jaw dropped as well.
‘I knew he was learning swordplay from Isidore, but… suddenly a sword demonstration?’
* * *
“Student Enrique. A sword, all of a sudden! Wasn’t this supposed to be a magic demonstration?”
Enrique regarded the Academy Principal’s shock with an indifferent gaze, then toyed with the sword’s hilt.
“I can demonstrate magic just as effectively with a sword instead of a staff.”
Mana immediately began swirling across the blade’s surface like a whirlwind.
In the same instant, Enrique executed a clean, precise horizontal slash.
Crash!
The sight of magic coalescing on the blade combined with the graceful yet exact swordwork should have been astonishing enough, but what unfolded next left everyone in the Grand Hall speechless.
Following the trajectory of the mana Enrique released, the wooden dummies were shattered beyond recognition.
“Just now, didn’t Louis Orleans struggle tremendously to cut down each one of those wooden dummies?”
“Five of them were obliterated in an instant, like they were caught in a storm…!”
“The difference in ability is that stark.”
Amidst the commotion, Enrique finished his demonstration and locked eyes with his classmate Louis Orleans, who stood beyond the curtains at the rear of the Grand Hall.
Louis’s face had gone ashen, clearly shaken by Enrique’s display of power.
‘Of course he’d be shocked.’
Louis had been spouting off that mages were weaklings who only fought from the rear in warfare, calling them cowards.
And he’d actually been viciously bullying Magic Department students who had weak physical constitutions and frail bodies.
Enrique approached the trembling Louis and spoke in a soft, whispered tone.
“You’re from the Sword Department, yet you’re weaker than the mage you mocked, and you can’t even wield a blade properly. What’s that about?”
“…W-what, Enrique, you…! You must have cheated somehow, right? Installed an artifact on the sword or something.”
“Cheated? That’s what you did.”
Enrique brushed the blade lightly and added with a scoff.
“I thought the wooden dummies you brought were made of oak, but they were made of weak material. They weren’t the kind of wood used for actual sword training dummies.”
“Ugh…!”
“After all that posturing, wouldn’t everyone find it amusing if your little tricks were exposed to the world? Don’t you think?”
Louis trembled with shame and confusion, then spoke in a pathetic tone.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t tell anyone, Enrique.”
As Louis begged desperately, Enrique shook a recording artifact and let out a short, derisive laugh.
“Why would I bother telling anyone? If things go wrong, I’ll just let the others hear your confession.”
“D-did you really record what I just said?”
“You already know, so why ask? If I ever hear another word about you bullying the Magic Department students, everyone’s going to have a very entertaining time.”
Under the venomous gaze of Enrique—the silver prince spoken of among the girls—Louis collapsed in shock.
Having finally brought the thorn in his side to his knees, Enrique turned with a sense of satisfaction and headed toward the stage.
Clap clap clap clap!
But the moment he stepped toward the stage, a thunderous wave of applause poured down, and Enrique looked around with a puzzled expression.
He had expected to be reprimanded for changing the presentation content without consulting the Academy Principal first…
“Enrique is truly remarkable. Such devastating destructive power!”
“It reminds me of Duke Visconti, the radiant Sword Mage. This presentation will be spoken of as legend for years to come.”
“Indeed, Enrique is our Academy’s greatest pride.”
Enrique, who had been quietly observing the teachers lavishing him with praise, soon understood why they were being particularly effusive today.
Far in the distance, his father and sister were clapping their hands with such fervor that their hands blurred together.
All the while, they cast murderous glares around the hall, silently commanding everyone to join in the applause.
And in that brief span, something had evidently transpired—Louis and his entire circle now sat near his sister with the vacant expressions of those whose souls had departed their bodies.
‘This wasn’t really a presentation so much as an opportunity to humble Louis, so I deliberately didn’t tell Father and Sister about it….’
Enrique, still wanting to be the beloved youngest in his father’s and sister’s eyes, quickly broke into a radiant smile and rushed toward them.
“Father! Sister!”
“Enrique. That was an excellent presentation. You truly are my son—magnificent and splendid.”
“When that wooden puppet shattered, it was so satisfying I simply had to applaud.”
Seeing his father and sister, who had come to support him despite not being informed, Enrique felt his heart kindle with a warm, glowing sensation.
“Ah, Enrique—and this is my gift for you. Congratulations on successfully completing your presentation.”
“Gasp….”
“That is….”
Those who had been stealing glances at Duke Simour and Saint Deborah, the Empire’s most renowned figures, could not suppress their astonishment.
The bouquet that Saint Deborah had retrieved from her Subspace pouch was not fresh flowers, but rather a platinum bouquet that a celebrated artist from the Capital had recently exhibited.
Moreover, the jewels embedded in the ribbon binding the bouquet were unmistakably diamonds.
‘That bouquet alone must be worth the price of an entire Townhouse.’
‘I’ve heard the Simour Family shares strong bonds, but it’s truly the case.’
“Thank you, Sister.”
Holding the platinum bouquet that complemented his radiant silver hair, Enrique’s flower-like smile caused the Academy’s Grand Hall to fill with endless applause punctuated by the occasional delighted screams of the female students.

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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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