The Baddest Villainess Is Back - Chapter 18

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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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Episode 18
She had no choice but to go, since the Emperor himself had asked her to attend.
Rozerin pushed past her irritation and wrote replies to both letters.
Knock, knock.
Just as she was about to rise, a knock sounded at the door. When Rozerin called out permission to enter, the door swung open.
“Good afternoon, miss.”
It was Din, the butler.
A capable man in many respects, he was skilled enough in Martial Arts to count among those the Duke trusted.
“The master was quite disappointed that you didn’t appear at breakfast.”
“Is that so?”
Rozerin answered curtly and nodded.
“So what is it?”
“The master is looking for you. He’d like to take tea together — do you have time?”
“Yes, I’ll come.”
Rozerin nodded readily and immediately followed the butler from her room.
She could guess well enough why he’d summoned her, so there was no reason to hesitate.
Rozerin followed Din toward the Reception Room reserved for the use of House Bellion’s Duke.
It was where the Duke received distinguished guests or sometimes engaged in casual conversation and idle talk.
Of course, the soundproofing and security were flawless.
In fact, the entire room was constructed of Soul Stones, making it impossible to use the Abyss.
“Please, go in.”
At the kindly smiling butler Din’s words, Rozerin entered without protest.
The moment she stepped inside, she saw the Duke of House Bellion seated on a spacious sofa, tilting a wine glass to his lips.
He was dressed in particularly ornate clothing, and the smile playing at his mouth suggested he was in quite a good mood.
“You came, then.”
“Good afternoon.”
“You haven’t shown your face in two whole weeks, and now you appear. What’s the occasion?”
“I thought you had something to say.”
Rozerin smiled faintly and approached the Duke.
The Duke watched her for a moment without sitting, then tilted his head.
“Sit down, at least.”
“Yes.”
Only after permission did Rozerin sit, and the Duke frowned slightly.
‘It’s not as though she’s some formal guest……’
He couldn’t fathom why she had to be so stiff about it.
“That Nolrang Mine you wanted — I acquired it.”
“Yes? Did you win the auction?”
“I did, thanks in part to you.”
He nodded.
“That’s fortunate.”
“Well. And though it hasn’t been announced yet, it seems the mineral found there has a high probability of not being amber.”
It was as she’d suspected.
Rozerin watched the Duke of House Bellion grin wickedly, legs crossed, looking every bit the villain.
Debon Bellion.
Now only the Emperor and aged old nobles knew him, but originally Debon was an illegitimate child of House Bellion — until his early twenties, he had been the godfather of the underworld, ruling the shadow realm with an iron fist.
The story went that Debon had grown up not even knowing he was a nobleman until his early twenties.
But when the only heir of House Bellion suffered an accident and the family faced the threat of extinction, the previous Duke had no choice but to bring the illegitimate Debon into the fold.
With the dead heir gone, there was no Direct Lineage successor at all, and the Cadet Branch members were eyeing the dukedom with each passing moment.
Unable to compromise the blood of the Direct Lineage, the previous Duke had grudgingly recorded the illegitimate Debon — the only one who carried his blood — in the family register, and Debon, who possessed sharp intellect and the natural gifts of a ruler, seized control of House Bellion as rapidly as he had dominated the underworld.
However, due to the current Duke’s habit of old ways from his childhood in the shadow realm, the House Bellion of this generation was said to be rather unrefined and rough-edged for a noble house.
‘Of course, I only heard that from Gerun later.’
Rozerin observed him while thinking this.
A cruel slaughterer.
That was the only title attached to this man who wore absurd, garish clothes and sunglasses.
The Duke of House Bellion, grinning like a toothless tiger with a cigar between his teeth, removed his sunglasses and smiled thinly.
“Granddaughter, tell me — have you become an Abyss?”
The Tri-Color Eyes of the Duke, bright with amusement, fixed themselves on Rozerin.
* * *
Debon Bellion placed considerable importance on family.
House Bellion had done so for generations.
For the Direct Lineage, one would not begrudge even their own life.
That was why the previous Duke of House Bellion, unwilling to expose his sole heir to danger, had abandoned Debon—his illegitimate son—and pretended never to know him.
Then, when that one and only heir met his end, he brought the abandoned Debon back to preserve the bloodline of the Direct Lineage.
Rather than hand House Bellion—to which he had devoted his life—over to someone from a Cadet Branch, he chose instead a half-wit from the Direct Lineage who had spent his entire years wandering the back alleys of the streets.
In his youth, Debon Bellion had been lonely.
He did not deny that there were times when he envied those who had built ordinary families.
Desire was his driving force—the most honest and primal emotion that had brought him to this place, to this moment.
It was for that reason that Debon had taken the trouble to pacify the shadowed world and gather multitudes beneath his heel.
Creating a family was his long-cherished dream.
To do so, he needed a safe haven and a garden, and for that, he believed he must cultivate his strength.
‘The trouble is, not a single one of them grew up properly.’
In any case, Debon Bellion loved his children in his own way.
He had never truly loved the wife his predecessors had bound him to through Political Marriage, but he had loved the child born from her womb.
It was a marriage made with mutual understanding.
Still, Debon respected her for becoming his family and for raising the children together, and because he did his best by her, their relationship was not poor.
Thus, it could be said that Debon Bellion was quite generous toward his family.
Whether they killed men or played with poisons, he would smile and let most things pass—a magnanimous temperament.
Of course, having been raised rough, his tongue was crude and his hands were heavy.
There were times when he believed that raising children was a matter of fists and intimidation alone.
Because of that, his eldest son often blamed him whenever the children grew up this way, saying it was all his fault.
In any case, Cherti Bellion, born as the youngest, was a thorn in his side in many respects.
Awakened at birth itself, he had addicted his mother the moment he was born and eventually killed her.
Time passed, and just when Debon thought a woman had finally come into his youngest’s life, one day Cherti appeared cradling a blood-soaked newborn and locked himself in the basement for months without emerging.
Everyone save family and the butler Din feared Cherti.
Having caused such incidents from birth and grown up scorned, bullied by his second brother, he had isolated himself.
It was a waste of such a face.
As for his mental state—so fragile—he had grown into adulthood and fatherhood with thorns bristling from every direction.
He thought he had found a woman who would cut away those thorns, but then another incident occurred.
For over a decade, afraid he might kill the child, afraid the child would resent him, he had kept his distance and pushed her away.
So Rozerin, too, had become a quiet child.
For years now, whenever he tried to speak to his only granddaughter, she would clamp her mouth shut and ignore him, so he had made an effort not to pay her attention.
‘But she has changed.’
Not long ago, he had heard that his daughter had tried to end her life, and while restraining his rampaging youngest son, several people had died.
From that day forward, Rozerin had changed.
As if she had come to some realization, she became indifferent and honest.
It was as though she had wrung out all the warmth and affection, leaving only dryness behind.
And so she had finally sought to step away from their embrace.
To say it again, Debon Bellion was lenient toward his family in all things.
He would rain cruel retribution upon those who laid hands on family, and cared nothing whether outsiders lived or died, but within the garden he had made, he cherished his family.
He was so meticulous that he personally selected every servant and retainer who tended that garden.
But if there was something he could not abide…….
It was not knowing what concerned his own blood.
And it was the attempt to leave his garden without his permission.
He knew himself to be obsessive and controlling by nature.
Thus, Ian Bellion’s Magluksa Incident and Rozerin Bellion’s Declaration of Leaving Home were, in every way, a shock.
“Rozerin?”
When no answer came despite his waiting lost in thought, Debon Bellion called the child again.
“Yes, Grandfather, Your Grace.”
“Won’t you call me just grandfather?”
“Is that displeasing to you?”
Rozerin asked in response to Debon Bellion’s request.
“What nonsense is that.”
“After all, I’m not truly a Bellion, am I? I’m illegitimate.”
……
Debon Bellion paused, his brow furrowing.
In truth, Debon Bellion had an impulsive nature.
So he found it somewhat difficult to understand his youngest son.
He had learned only recently that his granddaughter was laboring under a misunderstanding, but he had waited all this time because Cherti had said he would explain it himself.
‘And he still hasn’t said a word.’
At this caution bordered on exasperating delay, Debon Bellion felt as though his chest might burst.
‘Not some bashful girl in her prime.’
He clicked his tongue softly and opened his mouth.
“What does it matter if you’re illegitimate?”
“…I’m sorry?”
“What matters is that you carry Bellion blood in your veins.”
He let out a scoff.
Illegitimate?
That hardly mattered at all.
He himself was a bastard.
So to Debon Bellion, what mattered was simply whether blood had been mixed in the lineage or not.
Even if it was half, if blood had mingled, that was enough.
“And you’re not a bastard. That youngest one said he’d tell me himself, so I held my peace, but given his nature, it would take years more before he’d speak honestly about it…….”
Clicking his tongue, Debon tapped the ash from the end of his cigar, then suddenly fell silent as he looked at Rozerin’s face.

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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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