Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 242

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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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Successor or Not, I’d Rather Just Heal — Episode 242

“Mm…….”

Freyanya, who had been cheering moments before, stood with both arms raised as she surveyed the Estate, her expression faltering.
Something felt off about the atmosphere.
It seemed subtly drooping, yet also strangely taut with tension.
Freyanya lowered her triumphantly raised arms and cautiously examined her surroundings.

‘Has my master been injured……?’

That seemed plausible enough, yet the atmosphere she sensed carried a different quality entirely.
And…….

Perk.

Freyanya focused all her attention on her pointed ears.

“The Young Master has awakened, hasn’t he?”
“Seeing the Lord enter the Recovery Room, it seems so.”
“Thank goodness! I thought he might be bedridden again like before…….”
“No. Rather, there were rumors about a Mana Breakthrough, weren’t there?”
“Hm? I heard it was motion sickness.”

From what she could gather, her master had indeed fallen ill.
But his consciousness had returned, and everyone seemed relieved.
Then what was this tension?
Just then.
The Salamander, who had been standing proudly atop Freyanya’s soiled hat, shrank back and slipped—flussh—into its master’s embrace.

“Salamander?”

Freyanya regarded the creature with confusion.
Strange—no matter how discouraged it felt, it never hid this completely.
If something was strange, she ought to check directly.

“W-wait, they said he was in the Recovery Room…….”

Freyanya tossed her belongings—roughly her own size—into one corner of the Estate’s hallway and crept toward the Recovery Room.
Passing through the long corridor and moving toward where her master lay, Freyanya felt the tension intensifying with each step, until her body went rigid.
Now she understood.
This wasn’t mere tension.

“Th-this is……!”

It was an overwhelming presence that defied description.
She had experienced something similar before, though not identical.
When she had been kidnapped by Elvia and awakened in Asteri’s basement.
But the aura was different.
Unlike anything she had ever felt in this Estate.
No—an intensity she was experiencing for the very first time in her life!

Gulp.

Freyanya swallowed hard, her throat dry with tension.

‘One of the servants definitely mentioned a Mana Breakthrough…….’

A Mana Breakthrough was fundamentally a growing pain—the kind of sensation a mage experienced when pushing past their limits to reach a new realm.
Then this aura had to be her master’s, beyond any doubt.

‘What on earth happened while I was gone?’

Freyanya was thunderstruck.
She couldn’t even begin to grasp it properly.
No—if she stepped out of this Recovery Room, she might not be able to bear it at all.
To her senses, it felt comparable to the dragons she’d read about in fairy tales back in the Elf Kingdom.
A primal awe and terror that emanated from the depths of instinct.

“H-huff, huff……!”

No. Still, there was no one as kind and good-hearted as her master.
Even if she was crushed beneath that aura, it didn’t change the fact that she was her master!

‘A-and really, given her abilities, it’s only natural she’d give off such an aura…….’

Freyanya steadied herself and clenched her fist, about to knock on the Recovery Room door.
That instant.

“Little one.”
“Eeek!”

At the voice behind her, Freyanya jumped with a start and plastered herself flat against the wall.

“Still a nervous little thing, aren’t you.”

Elvia looked at Freyanya’s reaction and smirked, one corner of her mouth curling up.

‘Has she grown a bit?’

Before leaving the Estate, she’d been no taller than a staff…….

“She’s taller than a staff now, at least.”
“I was always this big!”
“Oh. So you’ve learned to raise your voice too.”

‘Does she not find me so frightening anymore?’
At Elvia’s words, Freyanya’s face went pale.
Truth be told, even as she talked back like this, Elvia was one of the most terrifying beings Freyanya knew.

“W-why are you here…….”
“Didn’t I tell you before? When you speak, you must enunciate clearly.”

Before Freyanya could pout and answer back, Elvia continued.

“If you’ve come to see the Young Master, tidy your appearance first.”
“Eh?”
“Since you came to the Recovery Room, you understand well enough—the Young Master is in poor condition at the moment. That look of yours won’t do.”
“Ah……!”

Freyanya finally examined herself.
She hadn’t paid attention to it, but now that the witch mentioned it, she was right.
Besides, even if her master had been perfectly well, she shouldn’t appear before him in such a state.
That simply wasn’t proper!

“Now that you know, go back and change.”

At Elvia’s firm words, Freyanya didn’t even answer and scurried back the way she’d come.

“She won’t last long even if I go in now.”

Elvia murmured to herself, watching the tiny half-elf slip away.
That half-elf runt would collapse the moment she stepped into the ward.

‘Patrick and I have it under control, at least.’

The dragon’s aura radiating from the puppy’s body was formidable.
Watching it fade gradually, it seemed like it would naturally dissipate given enough time, but….

‘No need to knock her out deliberately.’

Though that would be quite entertaining to witness, she could call it a gift for her recent travels.
Besides, there was already plenty of amusement unfolding inside the room as it was.

‘I should go in and catch the rest of the show.’

Elvia chuckled, imagining Patrick’s face from moments ago—the one that had gone utterly blank—and opened the Recovery Room door.
A cacophony of sounds leaked through the crack.

“Grrrrrowl!”
“Chirp! Chirp-chirp!”

Pus, his fur bristling, growled toward the window, while Nature flapped her wings as if demanding an attack.

“The kids say if you don’t fight back, you’re a coward.”

And somewhere in the chaos, the puppy—conversing with the dragon’s spirit.

—Me? A coward? That’s absurd!

“Sigh….”

And finally, Patrick’s exasperated breath—having permitted all this madness, yet unable to bring himself to leave his beloved grandson in this pandemonium.
So many beings who weren’t even human, yet it smelled so thoroughly like life being lived.

‘I’ve truly lived long enough to see everything.’

Elvia suppressed her laughter and closed the Recovery Room door behind her.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Second Imperial Prince—having received reports from Ricshel and Marquis Bydentis—lifted one corner of his mouth in a twisted smile.

“Witnesses to death, yet no one saw the corpse. How interesting.”

Amusing, indeed.
Yet the Second Prince’s eyes remained utterly cold.

“Yes, Your Highness.”
.
It had begun as nothing more than an ordinary disappearance within the Imperial Court.
Though calling a disappearance ordinary was itself a joke—in the palace, people vanishing without a trace was commonplace enough.
Marquis Bydentis and Ricshel had simply been trying to bury this incident as a cover for the gap in Lion’s and the Second Prince’s schedules over the past few days.
But this case.
Something was wrong.
No—it bordered on the uncanny.
As mentioned before, there were many who had witnessed the murder scene.

‘More precisely: the circumstances.’

Ricshel recounted the report he had submitted, walking through it once more in his mind.

The two of them had resolved to look into the most recent disappearance case, and immediately set about doing so.
It happened to be a lady-in-waiting newly selected by the Empress.
It was sufficient commotion within the Imperial Court.
So while gathering evidence, an elderly attendant came forward with a statement.

‘Or rather, they made him talk.’

Money and power.
There was nothing that couldn’t be done with those and physical force, and Ricshel had no qualms about using them if he judged it necessary.
He’d become considerably more restrained thanks to his brother of late, but Ricshel was the successor who would one day need to lead Asteri.
The attendant spoke of what he’d seen.
A lady-in-waiting dying.
To be precise, someone he suspected was the Empress’s agent had directed her to leave, and she was never seen again.

—People who’ve wagged their tongues carelessly in the Imperial Court have often died, so I simply wished to recover the poor lady’s remains…….
—That’s a lie.
—I beg your pardon. The truth is, when I recover the remains of ladies who’ve disappeared here, their families sometimes offer a token of gratitude…….

Ricshel flipped through the contents of the report in his head.
This wasn’t the important part.
The attendant’s final statement—that was the core of the matter.

—Yet…… there was no trace whatsoever.
—Normally, when someone disappears within the Imperial Court, at least a little blood or signs of resistance remain. At minimum, the grounds are disturbed.
—I’m the one who removes those traces and returns the bodies. That’s my work.
—But there was neither a body nor any trace. It was as though she simply vanished.
—All the recent disappearances are like this.
—Isn’t that strange?

All the recent disappearances.

“These recent disappearances—they began after I became a prince?”
“Yes.”
“Ha.”

The Second Imperial Prince let out a cold laugh.

“Now I’m beginning to see the shape of how that incompetent First Prince has been spiting me.”
“Spite, sir? Do you mean that curse?”

The Marquis Bydentis, who had been silent until now, spoke slowly.

“If it is indeed a curse, the accounting doesn’t add up.”
“Would you explain?”

Ricshel posed the question, and the Marquis Bydentis inclined his head.
In any case, none of those present would be ignorant of what had transpired within House Bydentis.
It didn’t matter.
Once Patrick Asteri had tidied things up, the information was already out.

“A curse requires considerable blood and flesh to sustain it, but had this been merely a ‘spiteful’ curse, the blood and flesh of a few humans and beasts would likely have sufficed.”

In other words, the effect was far too trivial compared to what had been paid.

…….

The Second Imperial Prince furrowed his brow for a moment, but soon had no choice but to acknowledge it.
The First Imperial Prince’s spiteful curse was decidedly troublesome.
Had he never been cursed even once before, this alone would likely have left him incapacitated.
Yet it would not kill him outright.
For all the people who had vanished from the Imperial Palace, the curse was decidedly weak.

“Demons do not work their will at bargain rates.”

Bydentis knew this better than anyone.
Power for power, in exact measure.
A curse for a curse, in equal weight.

“Which means…”
“Someone else is preparing something. Or concealing something beneath it.”

The Empress.
There were motive enough to spare.
And yet.

“Ha. My apologies, but I shall take my leave for a moment.”

A figure garbed in pristine white priest’s robes—utterly incongruous with the Imperial Palace.

One could hardly fault the chamberlain for his confusion.
Priests rarely entered the Imperial Palace proper.
And when they did, it was only to the Emperor’s chambers.
Moreover, this was no ordinary priest—this was the Archbishop himself.
Notably, he had made a point of avoiding any meeting with the Second Imperial Prince.
No doubt he had hoped the curse would remain divorced from both politics and the temple.
And yet here he was.

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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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