The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 26

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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 26
“The Empire may have won its war against the Monsters, but for those living near the Abyss, it’s still distant news. Too many people lose their lives to Monsters every day. You know well enough that a Monster’s Aura is especially lethal to the elderly and children whose bodies are weak. Even those fortunate enough to survive bear lifelong aftereffects in their bodies.”
Pesha glanced at Fontloy’s right leg.
That limp was the reason Fontloy walked with a Cane.
“Since you spent your childhood in the Eastern Region, you understand better than most—Aura Contamination usually results from infected wounds. No matter how much Purification is applied, the Aura spreads rapidly through the injury, and there’s no stopping it. That’s why I thought, what if we created a potion that gently disinfects the wound while delivering Purification effects?”
Fontloy then spoke in a grave tone.
“Disinfectant? An infected wound and disinfectant are incompatible. The pain would be unbearable.”
“That was true before. So I created a new herb through artificial breeding that combines both effects. It can prevent the wound from spreading through disinfection and deliver Purification at the same time.”
“Is such a thing even possible?”
“It’s a potion made from a newly cultivated plant, so the preparation will be somewhat difficult, but I can guarantee the results with certainty.”
Fontloy stared at the Potion without closing his mouth, then lowered his gaze to his own right leg.
Pesha continued, as if she’d anticipated this.
“That’s right. We can heal your leg too.”
“What?”
“You don’t believe me. Let me prove it by healing that leg of yours.”
Fontloy was born illegitimate—the son of a servant, not the official wife.
The late Duchess took offense at this and cast out the servant, refusing to write her a letter of recommendation, making it impossible for her to find work.
Left with no choice, she fled to the distant Eastern Region and gave birth to her child there, beginning a precarious life on the eastern frontier.
This was before Owen was born and ended the long war, when the Eastern Region was nothing less than a nest of Monsters.
In such a dangerous place, a young child was an easy target, and Fontloy’s mother died from Contamination while protecting him from the Monsters.
He barely survived thanks to his mother’s sacrifice, but the boy’s leg was left crippled.
More than that, his knee would throb with pain each night, and he suffered from constant agony.
No elixir in all his life had ever been able to heal that leg.
‘He finds relief from the pain through Io’s Purification power.’
In the original work, the decisive reason Fontloy helped Io was that the place Io wanted to change was none other than the Eastern Region—filled with the memories and suffering of his childhood.
His sudden show of favor toward Owen was gratitude for clearing out the Monsters of the Eastern Region, so unlike Clark, he would certainly recognize the value of the Potion.
“You truly can heal my leg?”
“If you don’t believe me, you could test this prototype right here.”
Then, after holding the Potion with trembling hands and a moment of silence, Fontloy suddenly posed a different question.
“What conditions did Clark propose?”
“He said he’d handle both production and distribution in full, so I should give him the formula in exchange for forty percent of the revenue.”
It sounded reasonable enough, but Fontloy would have caught the traps hidden in those words instantly.
Sure enough, he broke into a broad laugh as if amused by the absurdity.
“Clark’s greed knows no bounds. To be so greedy in a transaction that will save lives and change the Empire’s very future.”
Pesha felt his firm resolve in Fontloy’s demeanor.
‘Perfect. I can make a contract with Fontloy.’
Pesha held back her delight and asked.
“What do you say? Will you join us?”
“Let’s call in a lawyer to mediate the contract first.”
“But we haven’t even set the terms yet?”
When Pesha tilted her head in confusion, Fontloy handed back the Potion bottle and spoke.
“I’ll give you seventy percent of gross revenue, not profit. I’ll handle finding land for the new herbs, distribution to the market, and all such tedious matters. I’d be grateful if you simply handled the formula yourself.”
“Pardon?”
This time, Pesha’s eyes widened in shock.
Simply not caring about the formula would be reason enough to accept a contract, but offering seventy percent of gross revenue instead of profit was a proposal she could never have imagined.
It amounted to saying he had no intention of profiting from this medicine at all.
“Why do you look at me that way? Worried that the Fontloy Merchant House will gain nothing? I’ve calculated everything before making this decision, so don’t worry. Having exclusive distribution rights to this medicine is far from a loss, even with these generous terms.”
“But…….”
“My servant will bring the contract shortly. Once you sign it, we’ll have it notarized by the lawyer.”
Fontloy looked between the bewildered Pesha and Owen, who still hadn’t let his guard down, and chuckled.
“Isn’t this settled now?”
“Are you truly certain about this?”
“Certain about what? Since it’s done, are you heading back to the Namoy Earldom now?”
“Yes, we should. We came looking for buyers for the new Potion after all.”
In truth, she hadn’t planned to leave immediately and was hoping to see Io once before departing, but they had achieved their main objective.
“Since you’re here anyway, why not make an appearance at my party?”
A party? Pesha looked confused, and Fontloy kindly explained.
“Tomorrow is my seventy-fourth birthday. With the Potion you’ve given me, I’ll attend the party without my Cane. It would be unthinkable for you and your husband not to be there.”
There could be no better promotion than if Fontloy used the Potion himself as a demonstration at such an event.
She had to attend such an occasion regardless, but there was another important advantage to consider as well.
‘If it’s a party around the Duke of Fontloy’s birthday, wouldn’t Io attend as well?’
If Io appeared at the party, Pesha could spare herself the awkward task of manufacturing excuses to arrange a meeting between the two of them.
But there was one concern that troubled her beforehand.
Pesha rolled her eyes and stole a glance at Owen, feigning indifference.
Would the invitation appeal to him?
He rarely exchanged letters with the nobility and took no pleasure in parties or receiving guests.
It might have been his nature, but the contempt he’d endured from the Capital’s aristocracy during his time there certainly played its part.
It was this hesitation that gave Pesha pause.
“Thank you for the invitation. Should I come to the Duke of Fontloy’s residence tomorrow?”
To her surprise, Owen accepted without the slightest hint of reluctance.
The Duke of Fontloy, pleased by his straightforward reply, left the lodging with a satisfied air.
The remaining problem lay with the two of them.
More precisely, with Owen.
‘Is that man really all right?’

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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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