Sister-in-law of the Heroine in a Childcare Novel - Chapter 58

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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 58

‘You may not understand, Young Duke. But I too have my pride.’
She wanted nothing for herself, rescued others, yet when her own life was saved, she called it a debt. She said she need not be swayed by it.
Living precariously without anyone’s help, teetering always on the edge. Then one day, laughing bitterly with an ‘ah, I made a mistake,’ and vanishing as though she had never been.
Perhaps that was why.
“By all means, blame me. Rebuke me, curse me—it matters little. I confess I wish Princess Titania had seen fit to reproach me in such a manner herself.”
Each time he heard news of Titania, his feet would falter. When he learned she had endured something terrible, he wanted to demand of those around her what they had done, how they had failed. When he heard she scarcely grew angry no matter what befell her, that she bore all things without resentment toward anyone—
He could not ask why.
An excuse, yes. An excuse, just as the Empress had said. If he did not seize upon such pretexts and follow after her, the emptiness left by the one who had spoken so lightly—”Surely the future Young Duchess will be most content”—became unbearable. Each time the memory stirred, Raymond asked himself again.
Had Titania smiled in that manner?
Had Titania spoken in that way?
He could not say.
Raymond could no longer be certain of anything. It felt as though he wandered in an endless maze with no exit in sight.
“I simply wish to protect her. To the best of my ability.”
Because of a single person who spoke so lightly of his own absence.

* * *

Most Magic Beasts emerged from beneath the earth.
This was common knowledge.
Strictly speaking, Magic Beasts were all living creatures that breathed by way of a “core.” They consumed no ordinary food, but instead generated Demonic Magic Energy within their cores simply by breathing, which they then used.
Most were hostile to non-Beast life. Their speech could not be understood, they could not be domesticated through feeding, and they were the enemy of mankind, which ever strived to subjugate the power of other living things.
Ironically, the byproducts of Magic Beasts became currency. When a core was destroyed, most Beasts died powerless.
Yet the byproducts of Magic Beasts held enormous concentrations of power. An intact core was worth whatever price one asked.
Mages were obsessed with the study of Magic Beasts. They had discovered much through their research. For the most part, power extracted from the corpses of cores already lost was not dangerous.
If properly refined, it could be used like ordinary magical energy. Through extensive study, Magical Artifacts using Beast power had become widely distributed even to commoners.
Yet even they observed a taboo.
Never inject Refined Demonic Magic Energy into a living being.
It might cause transformation into a Magic Beast.
Beast or human alike.
Of course, foolish humans existed everywhere.
Rumors spread that the source of Magic Beasts’ natural immortality was none other than this Demonic Magic Energy. All manner of dangerous contraband began to be sold in secret on the strength of such claims.
The Empire was the nation where Magic Beasts appeared most frequently across the continent. Whether the Foundation Myth’s claim that the source of Beasts had been sealed was truth or not remained unclear, but it had once been a nation that destroyed Beasts as easily as one crushes newborn rats. Now it relied solely on the Castrain Family, yet its stockpile of byproducts remained overwhelming.
The Castrain Family were experts in Magic Beasts. They were equally expert in disposing of their byproducts. When exporting such materials through trade to other nations, they did so with rigorous oversight, ensuring such dangerous items did not circulate freely.
Yet as everywhere, smuggling networks existed. Some mercenaries eluded the Castrain Family’s watch and profited through black market trade.
In a quiet chamber, only voices echoed.
“Our house is renowned as merchants, after all. Naturally, we handle all manner of goods. But we do not touch such dangerous items with our own hands. My father has always said that water drunk in haste leads to indigestion.”
Cortez, the Young Duke whose identity he had revealed, smiled with peculiar brightness.
“My father trusted me greatly, and entrusted this city to my care for several years. Though the actual administrative work falls to my deputies—I knew too well my father’s attachment to this city, and so I believed he had acknowledged me. When I learned of the existence of the Black Market Auction House in this city, I decided it could not be ignored.”
Illegal markets existed everywhere.
Much less so for the Southern Region’s greatest trading city would have been stranger.
Of course, even Cortez did not labor under the delusion that he could eliminate or control the entire Black Market Auction House.
For one could not know what powerful figures might be customers there, nor could Cortez judge whether he could contend with them.
Cortez had simply thought: ‘This is my city. I ought at least to understand what transpires within it.’
Moreover, he had found it impossible to discover who truly ran the Black Market Auction House, or what backing they possessed.
Should he move carelessly, there was no telling what might happen, so he could only observe carefully.
Then came a certain day.
“I had slipped an experienced mercenary who had worked in the Northern Region into that auction house. Normally he would simply remember what he saw and report to me discreetly. But one day he summoned me urgently, saying it seemed this could not be ignored.”
Truly, a ‘dangerous item’ had been put up for auction. When Cortez hurried to the auction house upon learning this, summoned by the one who had recognized it—
“All I remember is a sound, something rupturing with a bang. When I came to my senses, I was already in this state.”
The item in question had detonated. Everyone in the vicinity had died. Only because the mercenary had shielded Cortez at the last moment had anyone survived at all—and that anyone was only Cortez.
He had later tried to learn who had organized the auction house, who had smuggled in the item, why it had exploded underground—but as if it were a lie, all traces had been erased and those responsible vanished.
Cortez had been wounded.
It was an injury that defied description.
The blood vessels in the whites of his eyes had ruptured entirely, and his vision was tinged red.
He had no strength in his limbs, and as if charred, a black miasma grew denser with each passing day. His strength faded; his limbs twisted. Day by day, his body wasted away.
It appeared, to all outward seeming—
As though he were transforming into a Magic Beast while still alive.
“At first, my father summoned Priests. But their Holy Power did not take effect. Is it not laughable? They claim they can drive back Magic Beasts and heal the wounds of the people. Yet they cannot save me? My father pressed an enormous sum into the Priest’s hands and even knelt to beg for some solution. That Priest told him that if I were to use the Sacred Relic kept in the Temple, I might be healed.”
A Sacred Relic kept in the Temple, revealed only during the Dedication Ceremony.
Only members of the royal bloodline could touch it directly.
Many believed the Dedication Ceremony to be nothing but a needless ritual. To common eyes, both the Northern and Southern Barriers appeared unshakably solid.
Occasionally Magic Beasts did slip through the gaps in the Barriers, and inland regions suffered attacks—but most people thought them merely unusually savage beasts.
Of course, Cortez was not a fool. No matter how neglected the Dedication Ceremony had become, the fact that a direct royal always came in person every summer and winter to shed their own blood had not ceased, and he understood well what that signified.
Should something go wrong with the Southern Barrier?
Should Magic Beasts pour through? This entire city would be destroyed. The damage would be incalculable.
Yet he was an only child.
The only son left behind by a frail wife.
Intelligent, with no wind in his ears, his judgment sound—a successor worthy of inheriting the family business as he was.
He lacked neither money nor information.
Then why not simply purchase all manner of Sacred Relics? At first, that was his thought. But obtaining such ‘items’ was not so simple. For one, those called Sacred Relics were nearly all the property of the Temple; moreover, the few items bearing fragments of Divine Power that came close to such efficacy were said to be kept almost entirely by the Castrain Ducal House.
He had summoned mages of every school, desperate to find a solution, yet nothing improved.
Now, some declared that without summoning an ancient Spirit Mage—whose very existence had grown uncertain—natural recovery was impossible.
Even the few things he managed to obtain brought no improvement to his condition.
And so Cortez finally bribed a Priest of the Southern Temple, stole away the Sacred Relic, and gave it to Cortez. He meant only to use it briefly and return it.
Cortez’s condition showed slight improvement. Yet—

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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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