Sister-in-law of the Heroine in a Childcare Novel - Chapter 60

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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 60

‘Why not just give this sword a good massage?’ I mused.
-Wouldn’t that hurt, though? (´O｀)
‘Since when do I care if he hurts?’
-Ah, but if the pain becomes too severe, the mind may grow so severed from the body that the soul risks fleeing the flesh entirely, does it not? (´O｀)
‘So he won’t die, then?’
-(´O｀)…… If you truly insist on proceeding, perhaps it would be wise to summon a Priest? Should the contractor be charged with attempted murder and cast into human prisons… I would find myself in rather… difficult circumstances….
‘It’s fine. I’m a princess.’
-…Of course, it is only because the contractor is direct imperial blood that the contract was possible in the first place… (´O｀)….
“Flux.”
“Yes?”
I gripped the sword and glared at empty air for a long moment, then hurled it to the floor with a clang and proceeded to stomp on it like a madwoman. Taking it up again, I wrestled with my thoughts before lifting my eyes to meet his. Flux flinched at the fierce light burning in them.
“Pain short of death is better than death itself, don’t you think?”
“…Yes?”
“The sword will stay sheathed, so there won’t be any blood.”
“Yes?”
“Debi.”
“Yes, miss?”
“First, send word to the Castrain Family about the current state of the Southern Boundary and get a report. Ask them if we can proceed with the Dedication Ceremony as planned, and whether they can source some kind of substitute for that fake Sacred Relic—something with those special properties they mentioned. We’ll spend tomorrow preparing, and hold the actual ceremony after that. Time’s getting tight, though.”
“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem, but…. What exactly… are you planning to do?”
Debi asked, watching me unwrap my wrists while her eyes darted toward Flux, who had begun slowly inching backward.
“The Sacred Bludgeon Treatment—to purge the Black Energy.”
I finished unwrapping my wrists with a series of satisfying cracks.
I lifted the Emoticon Sword, adjusted to its minimum weight.
“Don’t worry—it’s all in the name of saving him. Yes, that thing buried underground is a cursed beast, the worst kind of problem. And yes, Flux got tangled up in it trying to solve his own troubles, created disasters everywhere, couldn’t fix it himself, abducted me instead, and has been acting like I’m the villain. And fine, he’s brought ruin to his own life and dragged others toward ruin without a shred of responsibility. But I’m fine with it!”
Debi’s eyes trembled badly as she listened to me vent. It was unlike her.
“Your Highness, you keep saying you’re fine, but you clearly are not!”
“That’s exactly why I’m standing here with my hands raised to save this garbage of a man—the one who kidnapped a defenseless woman without warning, in the dead of night, without explanation, while she slept!”
“Your Highness, I would much appreciate a proper explanation. What does ‘pain short of death is better than death’ actually mean?”
A faint terror glimmered in Flux’s eyes. He may have bungled everything else, but his instincts were sharp. Then again, if someone walked toward you grinning, brandishing a sheathed sword, most people would know to be afraid.
“You’ve heard the rumors about the Imperial Family, haven’t you? Now you get to experience them firsthand! I, personally, will heal you, Flux, with this sacred blade!”
Flux instinctively jerked backward.
“F-forgive me, but w-what m-manner of h-healing is this?”
“This kind!”
Crack!
The night sky went white with the impact. A dull, terrible sound echoed through the chamber, again and again.
For someone, it was an endless night of agony and sorrow.

* * *

Flux lay utterly spent, thinking.
‘What exactly is the princess?’
The decision to seek her out had been Flux’s alone. Count Cortez was still scrambling for any possible solution, telling him to hold back, that moving too hastily might worsen his condition and to preserve what strength he had.
But the moment Flux saw the steely determination in Count Cortez’s eyes, he understood.
‘Father intends to save me, no matter what price he must pay.’
Until now, Count Cortez had maintained careful neutrality.
As long as he held the position of merchant’s representative, leaning too far either direction had been awkward.
The Empress had shown him favor, dumping the task of procuring luxuries and rare goods upon him, but he had never truly been in her pocket.
Adequately, without fully committing, he had played the game of tug-of-war, leaving doors open for possible futures.
The great incident at the Imperial Palace not long ago—the absurd story of Magic Beasts invading, the Crown Prince fleeing, and the unloved princess saving everyone.
Even as rumors spread that the Empress was locked away in her quarters and laughter bloomed again in the Empress’s Palace.
The high nobility had noticed something different.
The Castrain Ducal House had sided with the Empress and Princess Titania, while Empress Cleo and Crown Prince Brian fell.
The curses, Magic Beasts, evidence, and swords involved were all secondary matters.
Even if rumors spread that the princess wielded a strange sword to slay the Beasts, everyone accepted it readily enough.
The princess had saved the youngest daughter of the Castrain Family—who knew if the sword, too, was connected to them?
Yet even if the Empress kept her head down now, it was only temporary.
Eventually, she would emerge again, and conflict would return.
The tools of noble intrigue could exceed imagination. If Count Cortez faced the Empress directly, a way to save Flux might arise.
He had avoided the Castrain Ducal House because they showed no mercy when it came to Magic Beasts.
They cut down even high nobles without hesitation. Count Cortez had feared the Duke would kill his son rather than save him. There was also the guilt of knowing about the Black Market, those back-alley auctions, and choosing silence.
Yet Flux hesitated.
Was it not all because of him?
Count Cortez was already past the prime of his years, but not so old that he could not father another child.
If he abandoned Flux and had another son, he could preserve and continue to protect this domain, this city.
But he did not abandon him.
The Sacred Relic of the Southern Boundary showed only minimal effect before shattering.
Then what of the Northern Boundary, the original source of such relics?
A chill ran through Flux at that thought.
Perhaps, to save him, his father’s ambitions might extend even to the Northern Relic.
The Sacred Relic guarded by the Castrain Family could not be extracted so easily as the one in the South.
So perhaps Count Cortez meant to ally with Empress Cleo and topple the Castrain Family entirely….
His throat tightened with dread.
Because of me?
Because of me—would the Cortez Family truly fall into ruin like this? Would his father? Would everything this city was, everything that he and his father had built with their own hands, crumble to nothing?
He wanted to stop it. But he could not bring himself to tell his father, eyes wet with tears, ‘I will do anything for you.’
Since his body had deteriorated, he had scarcely left these walls. When word came that the princess, backed by the Castrain Family, would come to the Temple for the Dedication Ceremony, he had agonized long. In the end, he had begged his guards in secret to help him abduct her—a gamble, half a prayer.
She might kill him on the spot for his audacity.
If she was as foolish as rumor claimed, she might destroy the Sacred Relic without thinking and then demand expensive dresses and jewels as compensation….
But.
…
“The Black Energy has completely left your feet now.”
In feet numb from pain, he felt a strange warmth—small, delicate fingers. Flux’s toes curled involuntarily. Heat flooded his ears.
“They’re responding well.”
As if unconcerned, she rose and gently touched his knee.
The bruise that had been deep black, then yellowed, now fading white.
When Titania had wielded the “Sacred Bludgeon Treatment” with the sheathed sword, he had screamed in genuine agony. Each strike seared like fire. When the woman called Debi asked, “What if he bites his tongue?”, Titania had paused, then tore a strip from the bedsheet with the sword, bunched it up, and shoved it in his mouth.
Then she struck again….
For a moment, Flux felt genuine murderous intent toward her. Of course, it did not last.
When did the burning pain in his nerves begin to fade? Titania struck relentlessly.
Sometimes she would pause as if examining something.
The pain was endless, but whenever her touch grew gentle, he found himself clenching his teeth against an involuntary response.
Had the cloth not been in his mouth, his teeth might not have survived.
How much time had passed? Titania now regarded him with sharp, measuring eyes, as if gauging something.
Occasionally, she murmured to herself—’Is that enough? Hmm, almost there?’—as if consulting with someone invisible.
As if confirming progress with an invisible partner.
“Look at your eyes.”
Flux saw the mirror held before him.
A sweat-drenched, pallid, hollow face. Yet clear white sclera, and brown irises bright and alive….
Flux’s eyes widened in the mirror.

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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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